


Beauty and the Beast

by Panda365



Series: Rewrite the Stars [1]
Category: Avengers, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Love, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, F/M, Friends to Lovers, PTSD, Protective Natasha Romanov, Romance, Science Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 44,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24581002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panda365/pseuds/Panda365
Summary: A few weeks after the battle of NY, the original 6 try to adjust to life in the tower.Through various missions and time off the clock, the team must put aside their differences to save others and each other from their own demons.(This is a Bruce/Natasha centered story full of angst, comedy, and friendship. Be warned of potentially triggering topics of suicide, anxiety, and depression.)
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Series: Rewrite the Stars [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927951
Comments: 12
Kudos: 73





	1. Needy

**Author's Note:**

> *Please be aware of author’s notes concerning adult and triggering themes.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Part 1 of the Brutasha Series* 
> 
> This is a modified version of a story I (animationimagination) wrote years ago. Please drop a comment! :)

“Another one?” 

She raises an eyebrow over the following elongated pause. Banner’s fingers are busy providing her gash with a second stitch, glasses over his cocoa stare. Natasha cringes as she holds the bottom of her top at her ribcage.

She tries again to get his attention, “Doc?”

He looks up, “Yeah?”

”Can you warn me before you just go in with the needle next time?”

He stutters upon realizing she awaits an answer;

"Sorry...are you okay?”

”Had worse.”

”This looks like an old wound that you just reopened. Did anyone look at this the first time around?”

She wants to lift her shoulder. Romanoff quickly thinks better of it and vocalizes instead;

”If you didn’t look at it, no one did.”

He has nothing else to say. She’s a stubborn patient. No matter her threat level, the wounds and injuries remind him of her humanity. He carefully maneuvers to lay a patch over her wound;

"Don't remove this too soon- like you did the last one."

She rolls her eyes over the reminder of the gash on her shoulder, “It was hindering my movement.”

”You have got to be the worst patient I've ever had."

She smirks trying not to pull away;

”Your hands are freezing."

Her distracting comment makes him briefly pull away. With a subtle smirk she takes matters into her own hands and lays the bandage herself.

For as stubborn as she is, he finds her independence is alluring;

"Is that all Miss, Romanoff?"

She nods abruptly. With a break in her focus she forces herself upright and off the edge of his living room table;

”Thank you Doctor.”

He accepts her gratitude with a nod. 

It is not unlike previous encounters. She returns from a mission with an injury and upon entering the tower searches for his aid.

Bruce moves to the opposite end of the room and begins to sort through his papers and return to previous work. 

Natasha stands on the sidelines, replacing her jacket;

"I don't see a bill left out on the table. Is it safe to assume that I’m free to go?”

He has questions. He pushes them away and offers her a quiet ‘yes’. 

The floors of his tiny living space creak as she heads for the door. She lingers, almost as if she expects a question or remark.

Bruce can’t explain why she would entrust him with her care. After all, there were plenty of other more professional doctors used by SHIELD.

He closes his eyes with curiosity taking the wheel and gently tosses his files onto the table, "Natasha?”

She turns her head around in the doorway, hearing that soft-spoken voice. He holds the door open between them. She shares a subtle sideways grin with her hazel green eyes looking up at his.

"This isn’t the first time you’ve come to me for help...why me.”

They haven’t been in the tower together long enough to consider one another friends. And with the frequent missions neither can say there’s a sense of trust between them.

She tilts her head playfully, "Sorry Dr. Banner, I'd love to chat, but I've got to run.”

His eyes narrow, “You have trained medics who can tend to you, why me?”

”I’m not here to flirt if that’s what you’re asking...”

His reddened cheeks betray him, “No, no. I’m not-“

"Look, you fix me up nicely. Your stitches last the longest and hold the best so...Barton's waiting for me, I've got to run."

”Huh. Okay...stay out of trouble.”

She turns to leave. He tugs at his curls as he shuts the door behind her. With a twist in his jaw he reaches to remove the glasses from his face. 


	2. Orders

"Feeling better Nat?" Clint stays beside her as she studies the notes left by Nick Fury.

They wait in the lobby of the tower, entertaining themselves in the common space. Natasha busies herself with a variety of files and documents. With her tablet on her lap she barely acknowledges the man she’s treated like a best friend for years. There is a special bond between them which accounts for Barton’s game of snatching the technology from off her lap. 

"Clint!” She laughs, extending a lazy hand as she waits for him to comply with her silent request. 

Steve Rogers enters the room with his mind on business. The archer takes his arrival as a sign to return Natasha’s device and await orders. 

Steve reaches to check his own smaller piece of technology;

”Have either of you heard from Fury?”

A disheveled Dr. Banner joins the group with a sense of chaos in his wake.

Rogers lifts his eyebrow, "Rough day Dr. Banner?"

Bruce smirks nervously, “Not amazing. And you?” 

Natasha interjects before Steve can answer, “Fury is outside. We can meet him on the craft.”

The redhead takes the lead on urging her teammates forward and into their positions. Climbing into the aircraft, the team greet an overly energetic Thor and Tony Stark. Upon receiving orders each teammate takes their position- Banner to his lab in which he quickly makes himself at home. Even the computers have his fingerprint attached to their coding. 

"We need the model up and running by 3:00. Got that?"

He hardly acknowledges the assassin, in no mood to take orders from anyone.

She pushes with an attempt to make eye contact, “Doc?"

"What."

"...Harsh. You awake?”

He snickers over his retort and the tone in her own voice;

"I heard you Miss Romanoff."

She softens her voice and her expression, “Okay."

Bruce bites his upper lip, wanting to yell purely over his personal work stresses. Tony was not always an easy person to work for. He closes his eyes containing his anger.

Natasha dismisses her initial thought to abruptly exit, settles into the chair across from his work area. She crosses her knee and observes. 

Bruce is hard to read. An absolute train wreck in his green form though a kind-hearted sincere man at his core. She’s unsure why but he remains magnetic. Perhaps it is the mystery of his humane side, a brilliant minded physicist, that intrigues her the most. She would be lying if she said her lack of understanding and control over his other half wasn’t scary.   


Holding some sort of authority at least gives her the upper hand. 

He looks above his frame of his glasses, accidentally meeting her stare. What he’d give to read her mind, “Can I help you?"

"Just real quick,' she throws papers onto the table, 'Fury wants you to recreate a substance using simpler materials. Stark can help you, he's just a little busy with his arc reactor right now."

His eyebrows lower, “Materials, like what?"

She shrugs her shoulders with her sarcasm shining through, “If I knew, Fury would be asking me to do it. It’s in the file.”

He removes his glasses, wanting to read her mind as he teased, "He asks you to do everything doesn’t he?”

She raises a brow, “Fury and I go way back. I’m just fascinated he continues to allow you on aircrafts...considering what you did with the last-“

He twirls his tongue over his inner cheek, “But, you trust me...that’s why you have me tend to your injuries. At least that’s what you told me.”

She tilts her head, "I'm not afraid of you if that's what you’re getting at.”

"You’re afraid of the other guy."

She sighs heavily, "I'm not afraid of anything."

His mind shifts to a shattered memory from the past. Thoughts of Hulk terrorizing the poor woman on the older modeled helicarrier leave him afraid of pushing her too far with questions. 

Unbeknownst to the doctor, she dares to venture to that memory as well.

They wait in the silence until she stands, patting the files;

”Let me know when that’s done? I’ll send Stark in to help.”


	3. Battle Scars

Their ground battle quickly comes to an end, leaving the team rattled. 

Natasha enters the aircraft with her uniform torn and her face covered with debris. She’s tired but focused on her current mission as she dashes through the craft. 

Barton invites himself onto her path to check on his friend;

”You don’t look good. You need a medic.”

She mumbles an ‘I’m fine,’ and presses down the hallway. In a bit of pain she heads directly for the lab.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce paces his workspace, hands gripping his curls. He hears a gentle tap on the door, secretly hoping for Stark‘s return. After being forced to watch from the sidelines as his teammates get torn in two, a witty joke or some inappropriate banter would be welcome right about now. 

Natasha stumbles into the doorway instead. Banner’s eyes widen, horrified over at the gash on her forehead. He moves quickly to assists her and tries to look her in the eye;

"Are you alright Miss Romanoff?"

She holds her head, feeling dizzy and slightly shaken up from the event, "I'm alright. I just need a pain-killer or something strong."

He gently lifts the back of his hand over her cheeks to feel for a temperature. His tone expressing nothing but concern and empathy as she consents to him leading her toward an open bench;

“You feel warm."

His hands quickly pull away as she squirms with discomfort. His voice is above a whisper, "You’re going to need stitches for that. I’m going to take you to an actual onboard medic...especially for a head injury. Okay?”

“No.”

“Miss Romanoff?”

She sits up abruptly in an attempt to regain her composure, unaware of how badly she’s been injured. Bruce twists his jaw over her lack of verbal communication. 

Banner mumbles under his breath and moves quickly about his space to begrudgingly take matters into his own hands. For whatever reason, she trusts him with her care.

He takes down his first aid kit to render medical attention. 

Her eyes close as he completes patching her up, catching the back of her neck as her head falls.

Bruce reaches for her pulse, deducing her exhaustion from the battle.

Natasha forces herself awake though her eyes stay closed. She grips her shoulder, struggling to appear stronger than she really is.

Her eyelids barely crack open to spot him. That soft gentle voice of her physician taking over, telling her to ‘just relax,’ and to ‘breathe’. He warns her if each prick of the needle entering her skin, keeping himself composed through the procedure.

Her eyes close again as he whispers.

"It's ok. I've got you."

She follows his order and allows herself to let someone else look after her.

Banner holds her as her head falls against his chest. He scans the room, making a space for her over his workbench with his folded jacket for a pillow. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

Natasha shakes her head, slowly waking up. Her eyes slowly opened to a concerned unlicensed physician looking above her. His brown-eyed gaze expressing an unequivocal amount of empathy.

She tries to push herself up, only succeeding because of his assistance. She mumbles, still trying to wake up. Natasha rubs her right eye coming to grips with reality;

”What did you do to me?"

Bruce lifted his glasses from off of his face tossing them onto the table, "You’re welcome."

She lifts her hand to her head, feeling three tight stitches where the cut used to be. Miraculously, she feels a relief from the pain. 

He remains quiet and sits beside the bench where she remains. She forces herself upright, seeing his jacket where her head previously rested.

His thick lock falls from his forehead as he hunches over. He didn't have to stay with her...and he was beginning to regret that based on her suspicious focus on his jacket.

Natasha narrows her focus, using his own anxieties to toy with him;

”I don’t remember consenting to this medical care.”

He stands up and heads for a vial left out on the table;

”I assume bloodied and falling unconscious gives me the right to save your life?”

“A paper cut is hardly life and death.”

“Tell that to your three stitches.”

She tries to be nicer, but the sarcastic tone overcrowds any hint of kindness;

"What are you doing now?”

"Getting you a pain-killer. Or do I need your permission first?" He speaks without turning around to look at her.

She looks down, hiding her inner thoughts over his kindness and care. He had done her a huge favor-one of many;

”No, no. It's- fine."

He heads back to where she’s seated and hands her two small pills with his fingertips and the vial in his fist.

She accepts, taking them down with a dry swallow. With a vague smile he places his glasses onto his face and immerses himself in nearby files. 

Natasha forces herself to face him even if he’s left to return back to his work. The fact that his back is turned makes it easier;

"Thank You."

His expressive brown eyes meet hers. Paying more than the usual attention to her irises he spots a hazel in their green tinge. Complex. Like her personality.

In her eyes he can sense her sincerity. There is a genuine kindness in her tone and beneath her tough exterior she is not quick to reveal. 

For as quickly as she’s opened the door to her soul, it closes. Before Bruce can reply, she has already stood up and makes her way toward the exit.


	4. Coffee Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walls begin to break down between the couple as Natasha attempts to understand the hulk better.

The group lingers on a steady delay after a week full of battles.

Each team-member is yawning, pacing, staying quiet as they make their way back slowly walking back to the air-craft.

Hulk stumbled mid walk, morphing suddenly in his calmer state. Gravity takes over by bringing the large green giant to the ground. Upon the crash Tony charges forward with his own mission on his mind. 

Natasha thoughtfully contorts her mouth, glancing in between the transforming hulk and the air-craft. She pauses, urging the others to continue;

”You boys go ahead and I’ll meet you.”

Barton raises his eyebrows curiously, "You sure?”

She smirks over his concern, “I promise, I’m fine.” 

He agrees over her convincing response, “Be cautious.”

Natasha lowers herself once they are left alone. She crouches near where he has crashed, her soft eyes looking toward up with an extended hand;

”Hey- Hulk,’ she tests his name with caution, it works for Steve, ‘It’s Natasha...Are you doing okay?”

He appears to understand her with his backward glance, still green for the most part. Bravely, she holds her stance. He consents to her curious touch. She’d imagined getting closer to the green giant eventually.

Natasha knows of others who have previously entered into his tight circle of trustworthy friends. Stark for one has made himself useful rather quickly. Perhaps it was a hint of envy over Tony conquering the giant before her that encourages the current encounter...

Her emotions are coming through over his current struggle to transform back. Natasha brushes her hand over his shoulder, curious over the taut almost soft, rubbery, dolphin-like flesh that covers his frame. 

Stark’s return and Hulk’s pull cause her hand to retract immediately.

The crouching Hulk permits Tony to stand the closest as he drops off a fresh set of clothes on the ramp. Hulk snarls at the sight and the thought of the ever present ‘puny Banner.’ 

Upon Stark’s disappearance Natasha tries to refocus his attention;

”Hi big guy...you can rest now.”

Natasha shows him her open hands, ensuring her weapons are all hidden and out of sight.

He wants to pull away but he is too tired from the afternoon and from trying to regain control over himself. His eyes close. His mind and body are still very much alert. His green fades slowly, skin becoming slightly softer and more human like as he looks back at his new companion.

To the large green Avenger, she seems to care...She appears safe. 

Natasha waits silently as she listens to his softer grunts and growls. She wants to understand him better...for curiosity sake.

He consents to another touch over his shoulder. She is gentle as her fingers barely brush his skin, tightening into fetal position.

She pulls away and stands straighter now that he is closer to his more human frame.

He's conscious of another’s touch, but his location and mind remains a blur. She moves forward to catch his shoulders as he falls backward in an attempt to regain his balance.

"Easy…”

He seems confused and afraid, holding up his torn pants with an open palm to keep them at his hips. Pushing up to his knees, the muddied doctor drops back down for a breather. 

She stays close, lowering herself back to her own knees as he looks up, startled by her presence;

”Wha- what happened?”

Natasha offers him a sweatshirt;

”We defeated the enemy. Tony left this.”

"Did I hurt anybody?"

She shakes her head, "No, no one he shouldn’t have.”

“Wasn’t- that wasn’t my question.”

“Everyone is fine.”

Bruce stays frozen as he looks over his shoulder toward the assassin. He nods quietly and takes the shirt. He nods toward the sweatpants, afraid to ask her for help should he push too far;

”Um...can you hand me those? Please.”

Natasha makes a realization and hands him the rest of his clothes, lowering her head while he changes.

Bruce moves to replace his pants, not understanding her sudden aid or concern. He brushes it off and shakes his head, searching for the memories of what has just transpired within the battle.

. . . . . . . . . . . 

  
Natasha lightly taps on the door of his room. His quarters are down the hall and to the left, usually where a light is left on until late in the evening.

He has been locked in a self-inflicted isolation since the battle and she has questions. Romanoff is aware of Stark’s attempt at chatting with him; they are always less than quiet about their nerdy friendship founded on science and sarcasm.

Bruce calls from behind the locked door;

”Coming.”

She waits with two warm mugs and greets him with a shrug as the door opens;

”I heard you like tea.”

“Who told you that.”

His surprise over her arrival is no secret as a vague expression is met with the door opening a little wider.

She tilts her head, “We live in the same...complex and I’m programmed to read people.”

Bruce watches carefully as she enters, trying to put the pieces together;

”Are you hurt?”

“Only over your apparent disinterest in my visit,” Natasha grins and sets her cups on the desk that he is quick to clear off for her.

“No um-I’m not...how was the battle?”

“You were there.”

“I don’t always get my memory back immediately.”

She lifts her shoulders, waiting for him to sit across from her. 

Natasha's eyes take in his studio space. It is organized, full of books and tech without even a shade of green;

”Let’s just say Hulk was surprisingly open to taking orders. Everyone was impressed.”

He nods, folding over his hands and ‘wringing out’ his fingers;

"Is that a compliment or an insult?"

"It's a simple observation."

Bruce reaches over to pick up his warm cup of tea while she sips her coffee. She smiles;

"I gather you like herbal, with one sugar?”

He lowers his head, unable to just silently and gratefully accept just yet;

"Did you manage to slip in a little arsenic?"

She tilts her head, "Even if I wanted to hurt you, I’m too professional for an amateur move like that.”

He lifts a shoulder, accepting the sincerity in her tone of voice. He lifts his cup;

”Well, thanks.”

Natasha sits back and crosses her knee, “Is it that hard to believe someone would want to do something nice for you? Be a friend?”

He looks downward;

”I uh...I’m not usually in one spot long enough to make a friend.”

”You’ve befriended Tony.”

“I am an uncertified therapist to Tony,’ he corrects, ‘He’s also giving me temporary work.”

”Temporary?”

He shrugs, “Well, for now.”

She changes her focus before continuing, “Fury seems impressed with how much you’ve been able to offer on our missions. You contribute a lot to the team. If we’re going to be working together, for now, I hope that one day you’ll learn to trust me...maybe view me as a friend.”

He looks down into his cup and toys with the string of his teabag;

“I’m starting to.”

She offers a satisfactory smirk, lifting her mug playfully;

“To friendship?”

He returns her sentiment, comfortable in her company;

”To friendship.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop me a comment! I love those. Thanks for reading! :)


	5. Collide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Thor call out the couple on their obvious connection.

Steve walks through the halls Of the Avenger tower in search for the missing two-some. He locates the assassin and the physicist in the kitchen early in the day.

The Captain coughs to gain their attention, the doctor at one end of the table and Natasha at the other;

”Miss Romanoff, I'm sorry to bother you but Clint wants to talk to you. Something about the Jersey mission.”

She nods with a full understanding in her eyes, "Thank you Rogers.”

She stands, quickly dismissing herself and offering Steve a tap on his shoulder as she passes. 

Bruce can’t help but observe cautiously, book on his table open to a page on gamma. Steve lifts a shoulder, curious over Banner’s lingering focus in Natasha’s direction;

”Stark needs some help with his arc reactor? Something about a wire? I don't know, I'm sorry.”

Bruce snaps into action, hiding his eyes behind his lenses.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Stark is looking downward, fiddling his forefinger over a wire emerging from his heart as Bruce enters with a hesitation. 

“Brucie, can you help me a quick second? I need to take this wire out and throw in a new one."

He nods, “I don’t remember impromptu surgery being in my job description.”

Tony scoffs, leaning back comfortably in his chair;

”Pep’s gotten good at this but she’s out.”

”Uh huh,” Banner Mumbles half-heartedly and immerses himself in the project.

Stark twists his jaw, eager to catch his friend off guard;

”How was breakfast?” 

He barely flinches as he carefully removes Tony’s the wire;

”...I don’t know what you mean.”

Tony follows Banner’s work with his eyes. He has to feel in charge despite Bruce already knowing what to do, "Be careful, don't let it touch those rims."

Within minutes the project is completed. Carefully and accurately. Tony smiles, fastening his glowing circled back into his chest. He looks back at his friend washing his hands and in a bit of a haze.

“You’re not spending more time around a certain redhead this week?”

Bruce looks back at Stark, twisting his expression;

”It’s Natasha, she befriends everybody.”

Tony snickers as he replaces his AC/DC shirt, "She flirts with everybody so. Doesn’t seem like your type. I have connections with more of the nerdy type. I ever tell you about Iliza?”

“I’m not interested in a date if that’s what you’re asking,” Bruce forces a smile, removing his glasses to clean them with the edge of his shirt, ‘Are you ok if I head out?”

The billionaire thinks for a moment before nodding;

”Chinese tonight? Late night science banter? You and me?”

Bruce nods, heading for the door;

”What else would I be doing on a Friday night?”

Stark pushes, “Taking Red out for a date.”

”Funny.”

”Watch out for Robin Hood. They’ve got something going on between them.”

Bruce lifts his shoulder curiously, lingering in the door frame as he taps the side of it nervously;

”Something? As in...?”

Tony shrugs, “No one knows. So it  _ does _ matter...?”

”None of my business.”

The engineer crosses his arms, “I ever tell you about my birthday party? Red was there- she’s quite flirtatious.”

”I’m, gonna go...if that’s cool.”

”Totally. Keep dodging me. That’s fine.”

. . . . . . . . . . . 

"Does Mr. Barton always require assistance with his equipment?" Thor raises his eyebrows sitting across from Romanoff in a large shed.

She lifts a shoulder over the curious demigod, "Sometimes. He likes having me available to clean up his mess.”

Thor smiled, "Your companionship resembles mine back home in Asgard. Many friends abuse the generosity of those willing to offer.” 

She focuses on her project, remaining respectful though uninterested in his rambling. 

"Yes. Valstagg, Fandral, Hogun, and Sif...pardon me ma'am. I'm rambling."

She forces a smirk, “Just a little.”

“Do explain why those arrows must be sharpened in particular.”

She brushes a stray hair behind her ear;

“Okay, well. These are a little more human. They burst upon impact rather than entry. Depending on how forcefully Clint fires these could potentially save a life versus those he chooses to use on say- an Asgardian species who can take a lot stronger of a punch...Bruce would have a better explanation and break down honestly...”

“The physician...”

“Well he’s- not actually a physician...it’s a different kind of doctor.”

Thor lowers his brow with confusion;

“Surely I would not allow Jane to tend to my injuries!”

Natasha catches his drift, “Jane.”

“A scientist, she’s a friend. A good friend.”

Romanoff grins anxiously. Thor presses;

”Why do you permit the ‘doctor’ to tend to your wounds rather than one with practice?”

Natasha stutters, keeping her focus downward;

“I am confused why that’s any of your business.”

”Natasha Romanoff?” Steve calls.

The spy dismisses herself abruptly, eager to pull away from the current conversation. 

  
  


. . . . . . . 

Hawkeye gently taps on the door before speaking, "Widow, are you alright?"

She looks up from a loaned library book on bio-chemicals. Recognizing she must have forgotten to shut her door the night prior, she twists her jaw and closes her book;

"What's up Barton?”

He crosses his arms, "What's up?! Fury’s been trying to call you all morning. Do you know what time it is? You’re late for a mission.”

She glances at her clock, '9:45'..."Oh my god.”

Natasha throws the book from her lap and frantically runs for her bedroom to locate her suit.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce shakes as he woke from his night-tremor, a frequent occurrence no matter what he tries.  His mother's screams echoing in his ears as his father throws a punch.

His mind and body tortured and prodded as he feels himself restrained, confined, and unable to help.

Bruce attempts to refocus his mind, though still trembling inside...

...but work is good for grief. Most of the time. 

He glances toward the clock, ‘9:45’.”

Reaching for his jacket left out on the workbench he makes his way from the lab. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Natasha runs down the hall, whipping sharply as she rounds the corner and heads by the lab.

Bruce opens the door in a fog, accidentally colliding with the master assassin.

He stands back with hands raised;

”Romanoff! I’m so sorry.”

She hops with a grin, “No worries-“

”Are you okay?”

”I’m fine. You didn’t see me?”

He scoffs, guilty of not looking in the first place; 

“It was a long night. Where are you rushing off to?”

Natasha shrugs, tucking her hands into her pockets as she steps backward;

”Off to see the world, such a lot of world to see.”

He raises a brow over her reference, “Moon River.”

She tucks her head, “Classic.”

”So, you’re not a millennial.”

Natasha lowers her eyebrows sarcastically as she reconnects with his focus;

”I’m cultured. Movie night sometime?”

The couple glance down the hall as Clint calls for his partner in crime;

”Nat?”

She smirks, “Duty calls.”

He tucks his head to hide a grin as she disappears down the hall.


	6. On My Mind

Fury’s words after the most recent battle are uninteresting to the group as a whole. Most evident in the way Natasha listens half-heartedly. With a hand under her chin and a boot propped up on the communal table she stares blankly.

Barton makes a joke that goes over her head. The archer surrenders when he’s met with a solid icy glare. 

Nick Fury pushes through his debriefing before lecturing the team on their assignments going forward.

Tony searches the room for Banner upon hearing the director drop his name. Rogers glances over his shoulder;

”Where’d he go after the battle?”

”Medical?” Barton suggests.

Tony laughs loudly, “That’s funny. He wouldn’t go to a doctor if his arm was falling off.”

Nick cuts off the engineer;

”Stark? Can you get me his research?”

”Yep.”

”You’re all dismissed.”

Stark twists his jaw, suspicious over the team in front of him. Natasha returns his glare, eager to remove herself from the room;

”What.”

Tony shakes his head, “I was gonna ask if you wanted to come with me to search the lab.”

She stands up with a confident aggressive tilt in her head, “Can’t. Busy.”

“Really. Too busy to help a friend.”

”Too busy because I’m on back to back missions.”

“Where to?”

The engineer waits in the stare down. Natasha smirks as she walks behind him and heads toward the exit;

“Should I tell Pepper you’re staring at me again.”

“That’s funny. She misses you too,’ he turns toward the Captain in a forced report, ‘Guess I’m heading into the lab to have a chat with Dr. Jekyll. Catch him up on the info.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Bruce waits in the lab, laying in the ground in an attempt to stop the sudden dizzy spell. His heart rate accelerated steadily over the rapid breathing. He grumbles to himself in a mental war with a Hulk who was put away far too soon after the battle. 

Perhaps the attempts at silencing him and the nightmare filled lack of sleep wasn’t helping the current situation.

His hellish visions and PTSD reach a peak. Another panic attack sends his heart into a palpitating frenzy.

He lays his feet on the ground, knees upward as he holds his head. If he could pull himself upright yoga would not be a bad idea. 

His chest collapses over a sudden resurfaced memory. An irrational fear of being ‘used’ by SHIELD as of late serves to heighten the headache.

Whatever that alien shot towards the Hulk was far from wearing off. The doctor shuts his eyes, regretting it the instant he attempts.

He could use company right about now. Perhaps an herbal tea with...a friend. 

Betty Ross comes to mind the second he considers locating that master assassin...

He should’ve stopped her, he should’ve been there for her. Abandoned and too late, he’s had plenty of nightmares concerning her death. He’s dismissed them during his waking hours many times before.

Today feels different. His mind is making a connection, convincing himself over and over that he is truly a threat to anyone who gets too close. 

Bruce forces himself upright with a grunt, eyes up toward the light to retract any formation of tears. He trembles. Breathing isn’t working. He forces himself to refocus elsewhere. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Bruce? It's me, I've got to talk to you for a second." Stark speaks outside the lab, calmly calling and expressing concern. 

No answer.

He opens the door, calling a bit louder, "Bruce? You alive?”

The engineer steps forward, mortified over the doctor taking a fist full of pills.

"What the hell! Bruce what are you doing?!”

Tony pushes forward, ripping the empty vial from Banner’s grip. the physicist bounces his knee, free hand holding his head with an elbow on the table, the other holding a glass of water;

”Pain-killers.”

Tony lifts the container suspiciously, “Bro, the whole thing?! This doesn’t have a label.”

Bruce lifts and lowers his eyebrows quickly, refocusing away from the engineer. 

Tony lowers himself to look into his face for honesty. Bruce rolls his eyes and stands up;

”What’s the update.”

”You tell me. I came looking for you to provide an update and mock Robin Hood not drag your ass to medical-“

”I’m fine.” 

Tony's hand wraps around his own neck, “...I prefer jokes and projects but I do have a heart buddy, I care about you.”

He tilts his head with a sarcastic focus;

”Advil doesn’t cut it for a- half monster.”

”Fair point.”

Stark lifts a loose paper on the table, skimming over his friend’s detailed remarks, suggestions, and notes, it made him dizzy?

Banner narrows his focus, speaking softly, “Don't move Tony."

Stark raises his eyebrows, “What?"

"Something's wrong with your reactor."

Tony looks down, startled to spot the leaking fluid. 

"Oh Geez! Nice call Bruce, didn't even feel that.”

"I know."

He offers a towel which the engineer accepts gratefully, camping on the bench Banner previously occupied. 

Stark lifts his shirt, struggling to multitask;

”I can’t see.”

Banner steps in, wasting no time in taking over. Quickly and efficiently he snaps the cover off and maneuvers the wires back into place.

He chuckles, "Now I know why Natasha keeps coming to you for help; You don’t talk. No medical degree?”

”Hold this,’ He hands Tony the cover for the reactor while he searches, ‘You need a better transmitter.”

“You need a better bedside manner.”

Banner returns with his tech, crouching with a wire in his mouth as he works. 

Stark waits through a brief pause;

”Speaking of bedside, how green would you get if I set you up on a blind date?”

”Forest.”

”Huh?”

”Forest green.”

”Point taken. Only got eyes for one huh?”

Bruce inhales deeply, “Let’s. Stop. Talking about my love life.”

"I was going for ‘eyes for science’...Aren’t you a little curious about my gossip on Red?”

He groans with a glare;

”No.”

”You blushed.”

Bruce looks up, his cheeks turning pink over Tony’s lie;

”I did?”

”No, but you are now,” he offers a satisfactory smile.


	7. Distracted

Natasha and Clint sit quietly at the table; he with his arrows and she with her pistols.

After an extended silence and spotting her redoing the same motion Barton leans forward with an eyebrow raise;

”You gonna share?”

The corner of her mouth raises anxiously,

”Share what?”

He waves his hand almost playfully, 

“You’re reloading an already loaded weapon.”

She looks down with a realization. He smirks;

“So where’s your head. Did you leave it in Banner’s room.”

Natasha contorts her mouth defensively, “I can’t be friendly?”

“Come on, when are you going to talk to me? You’re getting more than patch ups.”

“We’re just friends.”

"Okay.”

“....What do you want to talk about…”

”Banner.”

She looks down, smiling subconsciously;

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Your sudden interest with quantum theories?”

“It could help on a mission.”

Clint laughs, “Borrowed books on Gamma.”

“Curiosity. Don’t you want to know how he works?”

He can see through her words, even her stare. He nods. After being friends for years there is a slight disappointment in his tone over her lack of trust to confide the way she always does.

”Yeah, yeah. When you’re ready to be a grown up about it I’ll listen.”

They share a smirk and return to their weapons. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She plots her course. He'd either be in the lab with Tony, or in his room; isolated and meditating on who-knows-what.

Isolation...Maybe that's why she feels a connection with the physicist. She’s invited herself to some of his files; They were both alone, both mistreated at a young age, abandoned by someone who should've cared for them, depending on themselves for everything, both too prideful and independent to ask for help. 

She gasps as her body collides halfway down the hall with the dejected practitioner. She fumbles for words pulling away from him, "I'm sorry, I didn't see you."

His eyes are low, voice displaying the usual amount of sarcasm and blunt remarks, "It's okay I'm used to it."

She sighs heavily, "Where are you headed?"

"Why."

"Come on Doc, a girl can't express a normal amount of curiosity?"

He shrugs, "Curiosity killed the cat."

“You’re out of comebacks,’ she gives a half-smile, ‘The only thing a healthy curiosity can kill, is ignorance."

He shakes his head and pushes his way into the lab behind them;

”I can respect your mind.”

She has to pause when he holds the door for her. There is a sense of independence she enjoys holding onto but there is something sincerely chivalrous about his act. His sincerity is appealing. And being invited into his ‘world’ only leaves her more open than usual;

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

He heads for the computer, quoting her from an earlier event;

"It's an observation."

She parks herself on the chair across from him and lifts her finger across the screen below her tracking various cameras, "I'm surprised Stark isn't here."

"He just left. He'll be back, trust me."

She leans back, -trust me-...Her smile is hard to hide. She skims through the files, having the passwords for things even Bruce and Tony couldn't access.

Bruce occasionally glances over the frame of his glasses, fascinated by her quick typing;

“What are you up to?”

Her eyes lift up as far as possible to watch him, careful not to be obvious;

“Nothing important.”

He nods, rotating his screen;

“Let me show you this. Remember yesterday when we were talking about the specs on the new biodegradable laser options?”

She leans forward, her elbows on the table, “Yeah?”

“Something you said inspired me to make a few adjustments. Take a look.”

Natasha browses his file, smirking over the project's new name, “Golightly.”

“Because of the light balance-...”

“And because of ‘Moon River’, good call. We still need to plan that team movie night.”

“I don’t know if Tony is capable of sitting for the duration of a film.”

Romanoff turns to her screen as he resumes his work. She bites her cheek;

“I’m almost afraid to ask...”

He peers out from behind his screen, “Shoot.”

She pauses with a laugh, “Why didn't you show for pizza night? You’re obviously personable. I feel like the team would appreciate the opportunity to get to know you better.”

Bruce scoffs, busying himself with work;

“Guess I have trust issues.”

She responds softly, “No one is here to hurt you.”

He shakes his head, “It’s deeper than that. I don’t trust _him_. Having a monster inside of you that’s ready to destroy everything.”

”I understand not trusting yourself. More than you know.”

“You have a secret monster living inside of you I don’t know about?”

She grins nervously, “Just my inner demons. The past will haunt you.” He nods silently.

. . . . . . . . . . 

Barton plops down on the chair in the main room. He glance around, disappointed not to see his friend;

”I thought Nat was here. That’s what she texted me.”

Thor glances around the room, "I do apologize, it would appear to be just the three of us. You, me, and the Patriotic one.”

Hawkeye rolls his eyes, "No kidding 'oh divine one'."

Steve crosses his arms glaring at Clint, "Will you stop being so sarcastic? Have a little patience. We’re still getting to know each other.”

He refuses to respond, raising a foot onto the nearby coffee table.

Stark enters with a smile. Clint looks up, "Stark, have you seen Nat?"

Tony shakes his head 'no' and shifts his focus to Steve as he lifts a USB.

Rogers uncrosses his arms, mouth slightly open, "You didn't! You’re going to trigger another war, that’s sensitive information!”

He chuckles evilly, "Oh I did! And the best part is, Fury doesn't even know I hacked!"

Thor looks up, "Hacked? This term is new to me."

Barton laughs, “Hacking computers just because you want another battle? Some of us need a break bro!”

"Barton, relax, Fury still needs to approve. It's not that big of a deal." Steve tries to appear reassuring, though his frustration with the 'metal man' seems to only increase.

Clint rolls his eyes, disgusted with the crew in front of him. He mumbles;

”This is bullshit.”

Rogers holds his forehead as the archer swiftly exits as quickly as he entered. Tony salutes;

"That Robin Hood's a funny one."

"Seriously Stark?! We need to focus on building up this team before we even accept another battle. There is mega tension between all of us.”

Steve settles into a chair across from Thor. The demigod motions for Tony to join them.

Stark waves his hand, "Nah, I'm heading back to the lab. I've got to go bother Brucie a bit.”

Thor crosses his arms, "Now, how in the name of Odin, are we supposed to be progressing toward unity if all members prefer to avoid conversation!”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The door to the lab swings open to reveal a gleeful as Tony;

"Brucie! I just hacked SHIELD's- and what the hu-lk!”

Natasha looks up in Banner’s usual place, preoccupied behind his computer;

”You did what? And why...?”

He points, circling for his preferred friend, "Why not? Where’s Banner?”

“Haven’t seen him.”

“You’re lying.”

Her eyes flick upward once more from her screen, “I truly have not seen Dr. Banner today.”

Tony contorts his mouth and moves in closer, “You like him.”

She tilts her head, “Love is for children.”

”I didn’t say ‘love’, you said ‘love,’ let’s make that clear.”

She crosses her arms and stares him down.

He agrees to whatever her body language means, “Yeah okay. Whatever you want.”

She presses her hands into the desk, leaning her weight forward as she asks a pointed question, "What do you know about Bruce?”

He motions as if to zip his lip. She punches him on his shoulder "I'm serious."

He looks down at his hands, "What? I promise, I don’t know anything.”

She thinks for a moment, "Let's see. You tell me a few minor details about our mutual acquaintance and I will keep your USB stolen files a secret.”

His eyes narrow, “So you’re blackmailing me…His gamma incident-“

“I meant, off the record details. I’ve obviously gone through his first file.”

“...okay. How about you enlighten _me_ because other than reading into a few of his quips I’ve gotten nothing out of him…”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

  
  


Bruce paces waiting for his computer to load. He swipes his finger across the screen. It feels wrong to snoop at all and yet curiosity has taken over.

'Natalia Romanova; born in Russia…’

He brushes a hand through his hair and pushes his glasses upwards, 'Recruited by Hawkeye...'

He switches the computer screen to nuclear physics shutting down the files after the guilt returns.

Steve walks by the main area, looking for a friendly conversation and a break from Thor;

"How are you feeling, Dr. Banner?"

Bruce shares a smile, “What can I do for you Cap.”

Steve steps alongside, looking over the screen, "Gibberish huh? What got you started on this stuff?"

Banner mumbles, “It’s always been an interest.”

Rogers points to a file pop up, “As much as Black Widow Ops?”

Rogers smiles, "What are you talking about?"

He shakes his head nervously, “Oh that’s nothing. Random. Spam. Back to physics, science, nuclear chemistry."

Steve shoves his hands in his pockets, not wanting to pry too much or chase him away. He speaks without a stutter;

”Dr. Banner, can I ask you something?"

He nods biting his inner cheek.

Steve lowers his head, "Um, do you uh, have a thing for someone? A fellow agent?"

“No…”

He lifts his blue eyes upwards, "I'm just curious."

"Why, Tony's spreading rumors?"

"Stark likes to spread rumors about everyone."

He removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose, "Out of pure curiosity, what’s your connection to her? What do you know? Can she be trusted.” 

"Well, Dr. Banner-“

”Bruce sounds, better...more informal.”

”Bruce. I know a few things, but Clint’s the guy to ask. Or just ask her yourself.”

He blinks, wringing at his fingers with a knowing grin, “And your connection...?”

Steve shakes his head, “We’re teammates. No connection...what’s yours?”

“Nothing…”

“Don’t keep looking for an excuse to say ‘no’. You deserve some happiness. You both do.”

“No disrespect Cap, but you don’t know me.”

Rogers nods with a smile, “Well I’d like to. I spent a good 30 minutes hearing about Asgardian mixers, can I spend 10 learning about- what was it?”

“Nuclear chemistry?”

. . . . . . . . 

Her hands are still burning from a slip of the boiling water. She retracts her hand from the warmth of the mug.

Stark leans over her shoulder, "He prefers Herbal...”

"I know-"

She freezes, realizing the Iron Man has caught onto her and the tea cup’s final destination. She glares.

Natasha inhales, stirring her mixture;

”Thank you, by the way. For talking with me.”

He nods, "First of all; that was blackmail. And second, if you got anything out of that don't tell him it was from me.”

"I said I wouldn’t.”

”Your word doesn’t mean much, no offense.”

Romanoff pivots, resting her back against the counter;

”I know what you think of me, and you know what I think of you. But I’d really like to move beyond that.”

Tony raises a brow, “Treat my employee honestly and I’ll be open for a discussion.”

She scoffs, “Sure.”

Barton enters the small kitchen, "Stark? Romanoff?”

She looks over her shoulder, having turned around to stir her drinks, "Hi Barton."

He glances around the room, "What are you guys doing?"

"Making tea." Stark gives a weak smile before turning to Natasha, curious if she will fill in the details.

He raises an eyebrow, "Tea...?‘ No answer, ‘I left my arrows on your bed. Can you snag them for me when you get a chance?”

Tony snickers, “You weren’t in my bedroom birdbrain.”

Natasha quickly brushes between the two-some, holding her warm mugs, “I’ll get them in a bit. You wanna wait for me in the car?”

Clint follows her with his eyes as she heads down the hall, "What did she tell you Tony?"

“Nothing important,’ Stark crosses his arms, afraid to ask, ‘Why were you in her room?”

He glares, lifting a pair of sunglasses to his face, “Business.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

  
  


Banner stirs his own mixture after recalling she prefers her coffee darker. He sets aside the stirrer, holding the door open with his foot as he exits the smaller kitchen area of the tower. He shrugs to himself over the presentation; the color seems right. 

He heads down the hallway with his mug and a small note attached. His head bows low as he walks forward, once more colliding with that Russian woman.

She stutters, pulling away from the collision, "Oh Bruce!”

He trembles, "Ugh I’m sorry- I wasn’t looking.”

She looks up, getting a good whiff from off his cup; he doesn't drink coffee.

Natasha clasps her own tea mug with both hands, "We have to stop meeting like this.” 

He looks up with a laugh, “At least we haven’t spilled anything on each other...I mean, because you’re always holding something- this got weird.”

She can’t restrain her grin, “If that’s supposed to be a greeting, you’re out of practice Doc.”

“Yeah.”

She embraces his introverted personality and smiles,"I’ll forgive it.”

He dodges, offering the cup within his hands, "Orimi?"

She accepts gratefully, “Thank you. I brought you tea."

“Great minds think alike,’ he holds the note, quick to crumple it back into his coat pocket, ‘I appreciate it.”

Natasha blows on her cup, "I have a mission, I should get back to Barton.”

His tension vanishes when she smiles. Her delicate features had to be one in a million. 

He lowers his head as his curly lock falls from its place. She looks up at him when he responds;

”Have fun, I guess.”

She chuckles, “Oh I will. Just pray to whatever deity you believe in I don’t murder our teammate.”

“Barton? I guess thought- you two always got along.”

She nods abruptly cutting him off, “Oh we clash. Quite often. I’ll see you ‘round.”

He laughs as she heads down the hall, sipping her coffee.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

  
  


"So here’s my analysis you didn’t ask for; I shared it with Pepper and she agreed- mostly. Thor is too buff. It makes me uncomfortable. The way he talks pisses me off. Rogers needs to check into a nursing home- His sock collection says it all. Clint makes me uneasy. I half expect to find a nest on the roof one day. I think you need to explore more rooms than just the laboratory. What’s your opinion of Nat?’ He lowers his head to look Banner in the eye, ‘You’re quiet. Distracted much?”

"What are you going off about.”

"Your mind is off to who-knows-where. Thinking about a redhead?”

"No...”

"Ok. So you don’t like her-“

“I didn’t say that. I like everybody.”

Bruce throws his glasses from off his face and crosses his arms. Seated on the workbench he waits in the silence, mind racing. 

Stark shrugs, “Did you leave someone back in Calcutta? Is that why you don’t want a girlfriend?”

Banner contorts his mouth, “My other half poses too big of a threat.”

Tony nods, “So you need someone who can match the rage monster...”

”No, I need to protect people from said monster.”

“What if she’s already made a connection with the big green?”

They can hear JARVIS interject, “Master Stark? Director Fury is adamant about contacting you.”

Tony looks up with a horrified and guilty focus.

Bruce smirks nervously, “Who’d you piss off this time?“

He shrugs, “Listen! No one is safe from me.”


	8. Home Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper is back from her work trip. Clint continues to call Natasha out on her secret admirer. Tony and Steve clash.

"Stark! You realize your little 'prank' could've threatened not only the current tensions between our governmental authorities but future missions?! I have to fill out a report about your conduct being that I'm responsible for the actions of the people I preside over. Didn't know about that, did you?"

Tony squirms in his position, uncomfortable with the director's remarks;

”Yeah, yeah. Don’t call me next time you need extra muscle.”

Bruce twirls his tongue within his mouth, nervously shifting beside a more vocal Captain;

“I think we’re all a little tense after the battle- considering the rogue components. Catching our breath will do us some good.”

Stark raises his hand toward Steve, “I’m sorry? No one asked you.”

Rogers narrows his focus, “As Captain of this initiative, I have to speak up-“

“Blah, blah, anyone else’s hear anything? Cause I don’t.”

Natasha looks up from the desk toward Clinton, “They fight as much as you and Thor.”

Barton laughs to himself, Thor follows suit;

”I do not despise you birdbrain.”

Clint glares, his smile dropping, “Where’d you get that nickname.”

The demigod points toward the engineer. Tony lifts his hands in surrender, “Don't be so offended. You answer to it for me. Way to throw me under the bus Hercules!”

Fury covers his mouth before sighs heavily. A silent Maria Hill stands at his side, offering a satisfactory grin over the feuding hero’s. She scratches her nose to hide her whisper;

”Is this everything you imagined it would be?”

Fury surrenders and entrusts Romanoff to take control;

”Get them off the carrier.”

Natasha forces a laugh and urges the boys to follow;

”You heard him men, time to clock out.”

. . . . . . . . . . 

Pepper waits in the main living space of the tower as the mob enters. She has a polite greeting for everyone, but especially for her boss who wastes no time charging forward to pick her up into his arms.

She giggles against her will, shouting for him to put her down or at least to stop his tickling.

Banner waits to hold the door for his teammates, giving Natasha a grin as she enters. She reciprocates with a nod.

Clint spots their subtle interaction and he can’t help but linger. He gives Natasha a glare as he whispers, “Ooh.”

She elbows him aggressively and makes her way to her living space. Banner follows her with his focus. He turns only to be met with a stoic archer who has purposefully lingered near the doctor with his arms crossed.

Banner jumps over his uncomfortable expression. They share a brief glance, enough to make their silent interaction more awkward.

No response.

Bruce tucks his head and dodges any further interaction with Barton and walks abruptly in the opposite direction.

Tony snaps toward Steve;

”Any chance you can carry my bags upstairs? My back is kinda screwed up from the mission.”

Rogers offers a knowing smirk. Pepper pinches Tony’s shoulder;

”What is wrong with you?! Give the man a little respect.”

Steve shakes his head, “It’s alright Miss Potts. He just can’t accept authority.”

Tony scoffs, “You think you’re the authority and THAT’S my issue. No one put you in charge-“

”The Director-“

”We didn’t vote! I’d like a vote!”

Pepper rolls her eyes standing between the two-some;

”Alright, I’m stepping in. That’s enough. I’ll get the bags.”

Thor steps in to collect their belongings;

”I shall take them.”

Pepper points with open palms and glares toward the engineer;

”See now this! Is a chivalrous man, this is how you behave. Thank you Thor.”

”Thank you Thor,” Tony mocks. Rogers crosses his arms.

Pepper drags the engineer away and into the kitchen. She smiles toward Steve;

”Would you give us a minute?”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Natasha stacks her books that need a return, finding it hard to pull away from spy mode.

Clint leans forward on her sofa, putting his tablet aside to poke her shoulder;

“Whatcha doing.”

She turns briefly, “I have some library returns. Enthralling isn’t it?”

“Just like Nevis.”

She grumbles and lowers her eyebrows;

”We don’t talk about that mission. I read more that week then I have in my whole life.”

"Is that,’ he leans in to sniff behind her neck, ‘Is that your ‘specialty’ stash?”

She blushes, “Ugh. No, it’s just my regular perfume.”

”Uh huh...not freshening up for anyone in particular?”

She glares, “Are you serious.”

“Very. Come on Nat.”

Natasha stands with her two overdue publications in hand;

”I’ll be back in a bit. You can keep hanging out, just lock the door if you leave.”

He stands, “Nah I rented a movie. Was gonna make Steve watch it.”

Romanoff tilts her head playfully;

”Aww. Do you have a date?”

”Get out.”

”It’s my apartment.”

”...Still. Get out.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Natasha paces well past midnight after locating a snack for herself. Aside from a knocked out Thor in the common room, she’s content to see the tower so quiet. 

She steps into the elevator and unwraps her peanut bar, nibbling off a corner. She presses the button for her apartment floor and tugs a hand over the loose long-sleeve of her pale lavender shirt.

Upon arrival she paces through and pauses at a door cracked open. She leans curiously over the soft light that spills into the hallway.

Natasha lifts a knuckle to the door, sneaking her head over the crack to spot the resident.

He is immersed in a book, knee crossed while he bites his fingernail. There is a reflective glow over his glasses from the nearby lamp. Banner’s head rises over her knock and he offers a smirk;

”Can’t sleep Miss Romanoff?”

She returns his half-smile before stepping in his room, "You're the one with the light on."

Natasha pulls a piece from off her bar, offering it to him;

”Got hungry. Tony and Pepper leave the best snacks in the common area. Peanut butter?”

He shakes his head no, returning to his book with an eagerness to complete the chapter;

“Can I get you something to drink?”

She crouches in an attempt to read the title of his book;

“What are you reading?”

Bruce shrugs, "Nuclear what have yous.”

She shrugs, hoping he’ll appreciate her sarcasm, "Strange title."

He smiles, lifting off his glasses, "I doubt it would peak your curiosity.”

Natasha chuckles and invites herself to sit beside him. 

Bruce appreciates her lack of hesitation and fear in his company. He hands her his book after marking the page.

She holds the bar between her teeth to free her hands and accepts it greedily. She flips through the pages;

"Hadron and Nuclear Physics With Electromagnetic Probes...what have you learned?”

He shrugs his shoulders, "Doesn't have anything Earth-shattering in it."

Bruce pulls the back of his neck and shifts in his position to better face his company. He tucks his foot under his knee. 

She smiles, "Does it have to be ‘Earth-shattering’ to be interesting?”

He can't hold back, "I mean for the other-guy the only thing interesting is Earth-Shattering."

She ignores;

“What about for you? What are your interests?”

“I’m assuming you mean something aside from nuclear physics.”

Natasha finishes her bar, the remainder shoved to the side of her cheek as she covers her mouth;

”I mean other than science, herbal tea, and hanging out with your boss.”

”Books.”

She scoffs. He smirks, far too satisfied with himself. She closes his book and keeps her focus low as he reaches to take it back. Her eyebrows lower over spotting two scars on his wrist. She studies him further. Learning enough about his healing capabilities, she knows they’re fresh. 

She speaks up, "Those are recent."

He looks up startled by her question, leaving his book over on the stand. He lies;

”From the mission."

She changes her tone, wanting to examine them further to confirm her suspicions. Her eyes circle the room, spotting an empty empty pill vial under his lamp. 

He finds an excuse to stand, replacing his book back onto a small shelf.

She hugs her knees into her chest, feeling safe in his presence;

”I um...when I was taken in by SHIELD, I felt out of place. And dark. I wanted to feel in control because it felt like my world was spiraling. I didn’t feel important.”

He lowers his head, arms crossing as he faces her;

”Why are you telling me this?”

Her wide eyes look up at him, unsure how he’d handle it if she vocalized her current suspicions. It’s easier for her to step into his shoes, refocus on him and force herself to remain honest with what she would want to hear; 

”Because you’ll listen.”

He seems to catch her drift, even if he skirts the topic;

”Are you still dark? How do you feel, now...?”

She shrugs, “Like I owe Fury a debt. Like I’m forever on a hamster wheel to catch up to how many years I’ve wasted.”

He forces himself to look up, biting at his lip;

"You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

”Neither do you.”

He tugs the back of his neck, opposite hand over his hip as she shifts nervously. She’s dropped self deprecating statements before and he’s avoided addressing them. Tonight feels different. He softly responds to her;

”I know it doesn’t matter what I think, but you have a lot to live for. You’ve got a good heart, you’re smart- You have a lot to offer the world.”

”So do you.”

She admires him for the sincerity in his tone. He holds no ulterior motive in offering her reassurance. 

Bruce swallows hard and tugs at his curls, eyes flicking up toward the clock;

”It’s getting late. You should get some sleep.”

She takes his hint and stands with a soft expression;

”Thanks for letting me crash.”

He nods. He wants to see her again, offer his apartment as a safe space. He smiles instead. With a hold on his heart he can’t permit himself to get too close.

She lingers in her stare, watching his head lower first as they walk toward the door. He opens it with a kind-hearted, closed mouth smile;

”Goodnight, Natasha.”

She focuses on his unwavering chocolate colored eyes;

”Goodnight Bruce.”

  
  
  



	9. Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper holds her grudge with Natasha. Bruce and Natasha share a moment in the lab.

Thor looks up from the newspaper as he continues to educate himself, "What is the difference between the two political parties in the realm of Washington?"

Pepper waves her hand holding a kettle in the other, "It's a contradictory topic Thor, I don't think we should talk about it."

Steve sleepily grumbles after rolling to his side. His eyes show he's half-awake, but his exhaustion forbids him from moving, "Come on Thor! You shout in your sleep. Correction; you shout when you're awake. I like you but you've got to stop shouting!"

"I do apologize Patriotic Man. I will try to lower my volume."

Pepper laughs, pouring herself coffee. The ginger haired assistant of Tony Stark glances up seeing the Russian rubbing her fingers over her cup. Natasha seems far more quiet than usual, mind off to who-knows-where. Pepper hesitates to ask. She smiles, sitting beside her, "Hey, more coffee?"

She looks up and bites at the coffee cup, "No thanks.”

Pepper curls in her lips up to a smirk, "Okay. I just see that you’re quietly taking your aggression out on the mug so in my mind you’re either about to throw someone to the ground or...no, just throw someone to the ground. I'm here you know. If you want to talk or anything."

Natasha smiles, gradually becoming defensive, "I just got to bed later than I wanted to.”

Pepper shrugs, “Well. You seem distant that’s all. Not that I’ve known you for long or that we’ve gotten along-..”

“Right...I’m not interested in your boss, if that’s still on your mind. If you hate me for moving in.”

Pepper forces herself to chuckle with a playful eye roll, “These days I’m competing for attention with Dr. Banner. I can’t get Tony out of the lab.” 

Natasha hums and sips from her own drink, “And that bothers you?”

“When he comes crawling into our room at 3am begging for my attention while I’m trying to sleep?!”

Romanoff raises an eyebrow. Pepper suppresses with a smile. “Not at all…”

Potts drums her fingers on the counter. Her blue eyes shift with a knowing smirk;

“If I didn’t know better I’d be questioning their sexual preferences…I mean god only knows what goes on in that lab, am I right? If only JARVIS would release those, highly sensitive security tapes...”

Natasha whips her head around with her eyes practically bulging from her head to spit her most recent sip of coffee into the sink. Pepper just looks up toward the kitchen light;

“Oof. That’s dirty. I should get that fixed...anyways, what was I saying?”

Natasha forces a smile, having half choked on her coffee. Pepper points to her own chin, content with the nonverbal response she’s gotten from the master assassin and the ability to overpower her reflexes; 

“You’ve got a little, drop right there.”

“Is Dr. Banner seeing anyone? Has Tony shared...anything...”

“Not that I know of,’ she smiles a little wider, ‘But it looks like I got you to sweat a little…and why would you care? Miss, ‘Rushman’...?”

Natasha sharply whips her head a second time to share a glare in reply. There would be no point in a calm morning coffee, so she dumps the remainder of her beverage with an overly dramatic shake of her cup.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Steve Rogers comfortably parks himself in the lab, watching the 'geeks' work their magic. Natasha and Barton enter on a time delay, startled by Tony's newest creation. He boasts, “Hey! It’s Little Red and Birdbrian, check this out! By the time it's done it will be twice the size, twice the speed, and house twice the energy! Awesome huh?"

Clint brushes off his shoulder, "Fabulous. Where do you hoard the Vodka?”

Stark laughs, "Easy there Robin Hood, in the common area, second cabinet.”

He rolls his tongue without a response and quickly leaves the lab having received the desired information.

Steve lifts an eyebrow, Natasha shrugs and settles beside him. Her eyes fall on the doctor. His navy blue top is out of the ordinary with his rolled down sleeves. She twists her jaw. Steve dodges as Tony’s new toy flies overhead, "Am I the only one waiting for these things to explode?!”

"Oh please! I give utmost attention to every cell, every DNA, every little piece of metal.”

Rogers shakes his head, "Lovely,’ the Captain stands to exit the room, ‘I’m out. That thing almost took my head off…”

Natasha crosses her knee and watches his new holographic device fly by;

“Nice shooting. Now increase the opacity so we can actually see what’s coming at us.”

Rogers stands, “I can see it just fine...I’m going back to my quarters to finish a book.”

Natasha looks pointedly toward the physicist, “Ooh, a book.”

Bruce shakes his head and takes her previous advice, raising the opacity levels. 

Tony reaches for his communicator, “It’s Pep...Brucie, you can hold down the fort for a while right?"

Banner pushes his glasses further up his nose and nods. 

She shakes her head and steps closer, “What are you up to Dr. Banner."

He smiles, “Just, messing with proton equations Tony thinks are impossible."

Her bright red lips part to the side, "Nothing's impossible." 

His eyes refocus away from her, back onto his screen, "You’re not wrong…”

Natasha stands up heading to the opposite side of the table to stand beside him. She points to the small letter in the corner of the screen, "What does that mean?"

He grips his neck from nervousness.He can't help but feel his heartbeat quicken as he answers, "An elementary charge."

She points to the opposite end, "And that?"

"Just a vector product."

Natasha studies the strange shapes and numbers on the center of the screen, "Now this is gibberish to me."

He chuckles, "Giving up so soon?”

She waits patiently to hear a reason for the complicated mess in the middle. He smiles, upon realizing she's anticipating more of an analysis he's all too happy to provide. Natasha listens intently, crossing her arms as he completes his explanation;

“I’ll stick with reading people over machines...though I used to be good at that.”

Bruce gives her a smile, removing his glasses. Her hazel-green stare is almost unnatural when he finds it, soft and expressive;

“Your turn.”

“For what…”

“Teach me something.”

Natasha scoffs initially, judging his focused stare, “I don’t know what I can share that you don’t already know.”

He shrugs, “Try me.”

She swallows knowingly with her eyes falling downward. Natasha has a goal in mind as she wraps her fingers around his sleeve once he gives permission. Her fingers twirl, delicately rolling it up without moving his arm. He remains motionless, both their eyes focused on her 'work'. She smiles without a word. Her body stays motionless in front of his, feeling an abrupt twitch as she touches her fingertips to his hand. She traces each line; 

"Some have been able to affect more people than they realize by just being themselves. By choosing to be a good person, to inspire others to be better- despite the deck they’ve been given,’ Natasha carefully turns over his now exposed left wrist, her forefinger outlining his faded scar as she whispers, ‘It would be a shame to lose someone like that…or for someone to take that sort of gift for granted.”

He glances upward, not expecting such a deep sentiment to leave her pretty lips in their play. She flicks a fallen curl from his forehead as their eyes meet. She takes a deep breath, hoping she's found a way to reach his heart, convince him in some way to stop any self-infliction.

Natasha looks into his brown-eyed stare. 

He sighs, his hand still in her grasp, “Natasha, I’m not worth...”

She holds her focus softly, “Not worth what...”

The two part as Tony re-enters, mouth going off as usual;

"I've got 50 calls! I swear the price of, -HELLO!- I honestly hope I'm not interrupting anything as you two are AWFULLY close. I’d leave again but that sounds risky.”

Bruce tucks his head first, slowly rolling his sleeve back down to hide his most recent scars. Natasha looks toward the engineer with a gritted glare, "Nope. Not at all. Bruce was just teaching me a few things."

Tony smirks, "Yeah, give him a chance and I'm sure he could teach you a lot more."

She rolls her eyes and addresses her friend, despite her focus falling on Tony, “I should go.” 

Bruce narrows his focus toward the engineer behind Natasha’s back, disappointed in his remarks;

”Can you think before your mouth opens? Once in a while?”

Tony laughs, “No, I can’t. So what’d I miss?”

”Nothing,’ he flicks a page in Stark’s direction, ‘Here’s your readout.”


	10. Books

Natasha cautiously looks up for the knock on her door. It’s soft and subtle.

Recalling she is currently in the tower is the only thing that causes her weapons to return to its proper place; on her hip. 

She twists her teeth and opens her door cautiously. Natasha regrets her overreaction when she sees her unexpected guest;

“Can’t sleep?”

He shrugs as he waits;

“I saw the light on...just here to drop off a peanut bar...?” 

She smirks and nods for him to enter her small apartment within the tower. Natasha permits him to lay the bar on her counter, curious as he scans her room. She addresses the book on the edge of her beige sofa. His eyes have fallen over the same.

“It’s the latest in my...well, murder mystery series...ever read it?”

He invites himself to lift the publication on her futon, scanning the back;

“Can’t say I have…”

She crosses her arms, “You don’t know what you’re missing out on…”

He scoffs, “I think the librarian would have a heart attack if I borrowed fiction over science and theories.

Natasha laughs and takes her book back and crosses her arms, “Obviously you’ve never tried…”

He chuckles as she clutches the paperback into her chest;

“You plan on sharing a premise?”

She offers a grin and opens to her bookmarked chapter as she begins to quote. Natasha circles her living room spaces grinning as he listens to her tale. She accentuates the last line of her chapter with the snapping of her book closing. 

Bruce brushes his foot against the floor;

“Entertaining, I’ll admit.”

She raises a finger, curious over his thought, “But?”

He shakes his head to dismiss her question, “Outside of, tales of blood and mystery, what else do you read to forget?”

She pauses. His intuition has bested her as she shifts, “Forget?”

He nods, “You obviously read to forget a past. Immerse yourself in a reality that deviates from your own…somewhat...am I close?”

Natasha bites her cheek, “Possibly.”

He tilts his head, “Outside of a bloody murder with 7 pending body counts, I can’t help but notice under laying tones of hope, a friendship.”

”You sound surprised.”

”What else do you read? Or do you have a secret passion for knitting penguin sweaters?”

Natasha fiddles with the edge of her book, sinking into her hip, “I uh...in the red room- long story...I started to gain an interest in dance.”

His head lifts; he’s interested, “What kind?”

Natasha’s lips curve upward as she lowers her head, “It was a diversion, but, I woke up one day with an extensive knowledge of ballet terminology...not saying I was good or anything like that, but...perhaps it’s a childhood dream I’ve held onto...something happier then what the truth is...”

“Dance...huh...I mean you’re agile. Probably quite talented.”

”I don't frequently share details about myself with just anyone.”

“Good to know.”

His smile causes her to do the same. She hugs her book Into her chest. Her eyes dictate from his upon hearing a knock from outside her door. 

Barton’s eyes are sharp as opens it and pokes his head through and addresses the two-some;

“Oh...Sorry. Hope I’m not interrupting?”

Natasha lowers her head with a subtle hint of sarcasm, “Not at all Clint. I have nothing better to do with my time then to have you crash my place for, what exactly?”

Banner drops his hands to his sides with a chuckle and then shoves them into his pockets;

“I was just leaving.”

Romanoff offers him a glance, making hesitant eye contact as he makes his way toward the door. 

“Goodnight Natasha.”

She nods professionally, “Goodnight Bruce…”

Clint steps closer once Banner exits, “So he’s ‘Bruce’ now?”

She glares and clenches a tight fist to punch her friend’s shoulder. 

  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Natasha throws her head back, positioned on the floor of the common area as her phone erupts with a phone call, "Fury. What does he want?!"

Stark yells across the table, "Don't answer it!”

Clint nods in agreement, "Seriously Nat. We’re on a break…”

Steve rolls his eyes leaning in on the table, "I think you should answer it."

Tony raises his eyebrows,“Fine! You go ahead and disagree with me just because you can. I'm not getting involved in anything! You tell him that Little Red!’

Thor leans back in his own strange way, "If director Fury requests our presence, it must have to do with a dangerous situation. Lady Romanoff, I suggest you respond to our director.

Banner waits in the separate chair on the opposite end of the room, nose in a book as he mumbles;

“I’m with Thor, just in case my opinion matters.”

Stark continuously shakes his head 'no'. Clint narrows his focus, "Please don't answer it!"

She rolls her eyes, "If it's important, he'll leave a message."

Tony smiles lifting up his holographic menu to search through a selection of alcoholic beverages, "Atta girl!"

Natasha feels a second buzz coming from her device. She clicks the button, nervous about what her trusted friend could possibly want. 

Her own eyes widen, nervously remaining quiet herself. Clint leans in to hear better; "What? What is it?"

She hushes him, waiting until the voicemail is complete. She clicks a button, sending her voicemail on repeat. 

Natasha looks at Bruce realizing he's heard the same thing she has. His eyes are wider and alert as she replays the message. She whispers to him nervously, "You heard him? Where is Kravis Children's Hospital?"

He nods in a whisper, "Between Upper East Side and Harlem." 

He jumps up from his position without delay, eyes wide and in a bit of a panic. They've heard a location, a jumble about a ‘child’ and don’t need to hear the rest before leaping into action. 

Natasha motions to Clint, “Call Fury and tell him we're on our way."

He lowers his eyebrow, "We?"

"Yes Clint. I'm going with Dr. Banner."

Steve leans in becoming curious, "Wha-...”

He shakes his head as the two disappear rapidly from the common room, raising a hand surrender. Barton looks to Stark, “Fury asked for two, you heard that right? And she picks him over me…?!”

Tony shrugs and gives Steve a look, “Any input from leadership?”

Thor interjects instead, “I am offended not to be invited onto this assignment…”

Stark slowly turns his head along with with Barton who does the same, offering their teammate a hardcore stare down.


	11. Miss Izabella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two-some venture out to help a young Russian girl. Bruce and Natasha begin opening up more to one another.

The doctor pulls open the door permitting the Russian to enter first. The couple walk purposefully to the counter, 

“We need to speak with whoever is guarding over Izabella Mikhailov girl,’ Natasha flashes an identification, 'I need access to room 418 emergency.”

The woman behind the desk flips through papers handing her the key, "Here Miss Natalie Rushman. Mr. Fury mentioned you were bringing a physician

Bruce retorts abruptly, “‘Physicist’ there’s a big difference…”

Natasha raises a hand over his clear irritation, he turns to roll his eyes away from the nurse while Natasha smiles; 

“Alright! Thank you.”

The woman nods, “Good luck."

The couple dash through the long hallways. Bruce mumbles upon getting over his misinterpreted job description, "Natalie Rushman?! Who’s Natalie Rushman…”

She shrugs her shoulder as they enter the elevator with a coy grin, “Ask your boss. You don't think I let every stranger call me 'Natasha' do you?"

He holds a cautious focus as he puts in their desired floor, "Apparently not…”

The doors close as she looks over her written notes from Fury's phone call reading aloud, "After Mrs. Mikhailov was swindled out of her profitable design company, she was hunted and killed…”

“Where’s the deadbeat dad.”

Natasha checks her paper, “Her father passed away soon after she was born…”

“...Whoops.”

He’s cold. Sarcasm at an all time high. She continues;

”Looks like the girl was found in her home after the event, multiple bruises and scrapes from the attack.”

“In the house,” he asks numbly. 

“No idea. She's Russian, oh! Here you go ‘physician’ Banner; simple fracture in her left forearm that's been treated. It says here that she regained consciousness last night before the staff diagnosed her with pneumonia-"

"I might let the other guy loose if you don’t call Fury and correct that. Very different training in case you were curious.”

She tucks her free hand into her coat pocket, “Right. Because he doesn’t already know about all seven of your PhDs, the year you took your first steps and how many girls you’ve slept with.”

“-Less than you.”

She smirks sarcastically, “Funny. I prefer your species in case that was a question.”

He’s stuck on her choice of words, “Huge, green, and angry?”

“If he doesn’t belong in therapy he’s too good for me.”

He laughs, “And is Barton in therapy?”

She returns to her notes with an eye roll. They exit the elevator pacing through the halls as she reads in a whisper, "From what I read about our patient, she’s an at home artist. Sold her first few textiles this year. Maybe she’ll get her first degree before she graduates elementary school and then you two will have something in common.”

They glance over the numbers, "Are you going to tell me why this is a SHIELD problem?"

"A caretaker has been reached out to...looks like Fury needs me to find a murderer? Or guard the kid. Whoever killed her mother is obviously after the little girl too. Maybe she’s got some details to share.”

She hands him a key fob as they approach the door. His eyes narrow;

"How old is she?"

"Seven years old."

Bruce gives Natasha a double take prior to entering the room. He holds the door as they look toward the small figure in the large bed.

The little girl's bright eyes flutter open upon spotting her unrecognizable guests, too scared to say a word. Her wavy hair covering the pillow away from her soft facial features.

Natasha makes her way to the girl’s bedside. Her voice stays tender and caring, just above a whisper, "Preevet Izabella. Menya zoovoot Natalie."

The girl's eyes lit up hearing something in a familiar tongue. She immediately connects with her, "Preevet Natalie." 

Her eyes shift towards Bruce who is already delving into her medical papers. His glance shifts toward the girl as she questions him;

"Kahk teebiah zauvoot?"

Natasha glances toward her friend waiting for him to respond. She’s curious how much Bruce can put together without her aid. 

He concludes she is looking for an introduction, after hearing names. He stutters, "Uh- Bruce?"

Natasha looks back toward the little girl, "Vy govorite po-angliyski…”

Izabella mumbles to answer Natasha's question, "Little."

They share more words as Natasha sits in the chair to the side of Izabella. The girl seems to be willing to communicate from what Banner can see and Natasha would appear to be collecting a ton of information. She’s focused and eager to help. 

Romanoff turns back to Bruce, waiting to see what he’s meddling in now. 

He’s checking her IV, her temperature, and her blood pressure, unhappy with each of them. He tries to keep her relaxed and comfortable with a smile and a tender voice even if she didn't understand him, "It's okay Izabella, you'll be alright."

He softly lays a hand on her forehead, resting the other on her bed for balance. Izabella gently touched it, wanting him to know she trusts him. There’s an instant connection and a bit of static electricity the physicist pulls away for getting a giggle from the young girl.

Natasha just watches from the side. She knows of his affinity for children and from their short time together, she’s yet to encounter a child who doesn't immediately trust him. If they spoke the same language, she assumes they would be talking each other's ears off. 

Hours pass eventually leaving Izabella tired and worn from her treatments and rough chest therapy begrudgingly aided by the physicist. Through it all, she remains calm holding onto the hand Natasha offers for comfort and support, listening to Bruce though she barely understands his compassionate words. 

Izabella’s eyelids droop, no doubt exhausted from her treatment and company. Natasha keeps her smaller hand in her own, sharing a story in Russian. Bruce can only see their reactions and judging from the subtle laughs it’s clearly not one of Natasha’s ‘murder mystery’ abbreviations. 

He grins to himself, cleaning the edge of his glasses as he comes to his pending conclusion that the Russian spy does in fact have a much softer side. 

Natasha looks up to address Bruce. His brown eyes are already on hers as she whispers so as not to wake Izabella, "I left my phone with Clint. Think I can borrow yours? Sorry.”

He shakes his head over her rookie mistake, "It's okay Miss 'Rushman', you’re only human.”

She narrows her focus suspiciously over his remark and begins to dial as they make their way for the exit;

“Did the doctor figure out her problem?” He shrugs. “Fine. Don’t answer me. I know you enjoy being able to help.”

He smiles toward the ground as they walk down the hallway and replaces his jacket;

“Did you get your information?”

She hands his device back, “Already have two SHIELD agents hunting down my suspects. I’m 99.9% sure I have the right guy. Coming again tomorrow with me to check on our girl?”

He shrugs, “Yeah, sure.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Natasha finds herself on the balcony of the tower, knees pulled in with her elbow over one and a hand under her chin. She’s gnawing at her fingernail, mulling over the day’s mission as she stares blankly into the fire pit. Her feet are cold on the bench compared to the warmth on her face from the nearby flame. 

Natasha turns her head in the darkness, hearing the footsteps behind her. She tugs the sleeves of her light navy top and offers him a smile. 

His focus is low, brushing a foot against the ground with his hands in his jacket pockets;

“New hiding spot?”

“I wanted some air.”

He makes his way toward her position, crossing his arms as he looks out over the city.

She looks up toward her friend;

“It never ceases to amaze me how good you are with children.”

He laughs, sitting beside her on the bench to face the fire pit;

“I was about to say the same thing to you. For an assassin, you let her see a softer side despite being mid mission.” 

Natasha ignores his remark, still fixated forward, “Other than the obvious, green elephant in the room, what’s prevented you from starting a family?”

He sits back on the bench and keeps his arms crossed, 

“Oof. You’re going there huh. No filter at all.”

Her hand falls to the back of her head as she studies his nonverbal response. His own hand falls onto his cheek, brushing a bit of stubble. Natasha restrains herself from brushing the lock fallen out of place and over his forehead. He smirks nervously;

“It’s complicated…”

“I’m a fast learner.”

Natasha just lowers her head deciding that if he wants to share he will share even if she would like to push further. He eyes open wider as he leans forward elbows on his knees as he wrings his hands;

“I Uh...I had a family. With hulk drugged— it was a crazy year honestly. But I was able to get married and be normal. One of the happiest moments in my life. But. She wasn’t. I was sick all of the time without my ‘other half’...Anyways; we had a kid that we never got to meet.”

“What was your wife’s name.”

“Betty.”

Natasha focuses on his expression. She knew her name already having done prior research into the infamous Ross family ever present on Banner’s file. She’s looking for his reaction;

“She left you?”

He’s forcing a cold expression, withdrawn from any emotion;

“-I buried her...Well, if we’re getting technical I wasn’t allowed at the funeral so her father buried her.”

“Why not.”

“Aside from a nasty divorce and her dad wanting me dead,’ he takes a deep inhale, ‘it was my fault. Someone who was after the other guy got to her first.”

Natasha keeps her eye contact focused on his should he look up anytime soon. She swallows when he doesn’t, watching his tongue press against his inner cheek.

His eyes are vague as he mentally allows himself to returns to those moments;

“I’m not inclined to go through that again.”

Romanoff bites at her cheek, “Does Tony know.”

He rubs at his eye, playing off a tear with a cold laugh, “Just you.”

She shivers. He notices. With a shrug and brief eye contact he shifts forward to remove his jacket. 

Natasha sighs, “You deserve a second chance, Bruce. Some kind of happiness.”

He scoffs, gently placing his jacket over her shoulders. She grins to herself over his consistent chivalry. 

“What’s preventing yours?”

“Same as you.”

He doesn’t catch on. She elaborates;

“My past...we probably have a similar body count except my ex-husband, Alexei, was one hundred percent at fault for his own demise,’ She adds dryly, ‘Between his shit- sorry, you don’t swear do you?”

He shakes his head. She mumbles;

“Between Alexei and the Red Room- I feel like lack basic emotion, empathy. I’m practically ‘factory’ made. They turned us into what we are and who I am. They took away anything and everything that makes one human.”

“You seem human to me.”

“You don’t know me well enough.”

He offers her a smile, “I know that if someone shoots you in the side you bleed.”

Natasha huffs out a laugh, patting over her previous rib cage stitches provided by the physicist;

“That one healed over nicely by the way.”

He nods, “As far as empathy goes, you seemed to get along well with Izabella...with kids.”

Her eyes close feeling the warmth and subsequent comfort from his jacket;

“The one thing I want but can never have.”

Bruce pauses, biting at his lip over her remark as he makes the connection. The master assassin wanted a family. Sensitive enough to crave a loving connection. He can empathize.

“I’m sorry.”

She just holds her grin. He watches cautiously as the woman who claims to lack emotion brush a knuckle under her eyelid. He stays fixated forward, hesitantly reaching a hand up to rub a soft thumb over her shoulder covered by his jacket. 

“It’s getting late.”

She’s clearly embarrassed as she leans forward to stand. Natasha reaches to remove his coat, folding it halfway before handing it back to him. Bruce scans her facial expression, hesitant to leave her alone if she’s still upset. She knows he’s peering and offers a nod as she hides from his view;

“Thanks for keeping me company.”

He smirks and takes back his jacket, “No emotions, huh?”

She laughs softly, “Night Bruce.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and thank you to everyone for leaving the ‘kudos’. Don’t be too shy to drop a comment! :)


	12. Harlem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce finds something interested about Izabella Mikhailov. Natasha and Bruce spend the afternoon in Harlem.

"What Are you doing?" Clint crosses his arms as he suspiciously watches Natasha fiddle in the kitchen.

"Cooking. And if you start with your nasty remarks I'll punch you." She waves her finger before turning the knob on the oven.

He shakes his head, "I'm more worried about that knife in your hand than a punch. Do you mind if I ask you why you are cooking?”

"For Izabella." She remains casual, eyes focusing on her work.

"Oh. Is that the girl from the hospital? What happened with that?”

"I’ll fill you in later...she’s young, smart. The food there has got to be disgusting. I guess, I feel bad for her?"

He pouts slightly, “Just don’t poison her with whatever this is.”

She points toward the Tupperware Barton reaches to place on the counter. Natasha scoops her casserole and seals it with the plastic cover. 

Tony steps forward wrapping his arms around Clint’s shoulders; 

"Good-morning Robin Hood. How's it going Little Red."

Barton snaps and with a quick flip pins Stark to the wall, “Alright! Alright! I will never touch you again! Geez!”

Thor steps into the room, "I smell the deliciousness of various edible items, but not the form fit for breakfast."

“Or any time of day,” Clint retorts.

Tony rolls his wrists after Barton releases them, “Pepper got your requested muffins Thor.”

Thor spreads a stupid grin over his face, "Lady Potts is very kind."

Natasha glances toward the clock on the wall, “Is Bruce in the lab?”

Stark opens his refrigerator, "If he’s not in your room.”

She drops her hand to her hip. 

Tony responds after judging the threat level in her expression;

“He’s upstairs in his apartment, looks awful and he sounds awful. He's getting ready to visit that kid but I told him to just stay home. He was on the phone, I think with the hospital, when I came down here. Maybe you can call Fury, tell him he’s sick or something."

She rolls her eyes, "It’s physically impossible for him to be sick.”

“No! Are you stupid?!”

She widens her eyes, “No I just read his file.”

“You read- have you gone through all of our personal information?!”

Natasha crosses her arms, “What do you want to know?”

“Why Steve is such an asshole.”

Natasha mumbles a swear under her breath. Barton just offers a smirk as he watches the conversation slowly go downhill. 

Steve collides with Romanoff as she enters the elevator in a huff, quickly moving from out of her way. He looks up to address the others;

“What’s going on.”

Thor greets the Captain with a friendly wave;

“The man of metal has decreed that you are in fact an asshole.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

  
  
She lightly taps on his door, "Bruce?”

Dr. Banner quietly opens his door inviting her in, holding the phone to his ear as he taps his lips in a motion for her to stay quiet. 

She walks in toward his desk, sorted and organized with only a few notes regarding Izabella Mikhailov on the side. She looks back at Bruce who’s barely put together, fiddling with the fourth button from his top as his shoulder holds the phone.

He’s pacing, clearly mid conversation with a woman at the hospital. 

She listens carefully to his voice- he does sound off to her. A rare circumstance for someone with superserum running through their veins. She paces through his living room, spotting a second and a third unlabeled and empty pill bottle underneath his lamp. Natasha bites at her cheek, turning once he addresses her;

“Sorry Miss Romanoff. I had a few questions for the hospital about Izabella.”

"I figured. What happened?"

He waves a finger in an urge for her to follow toward his desk, “Look at this…”

She steps beside him as he points to the pages, his sleeves unbuttoned in his disheveled state. With a hand on her hip she looks over his shoulder. His cheeks are smooth, eyes wide over his findings;

“Izabella is AB-, first of all, only 1% of the population...including; me and my cousin, Jennifer...the notes in Izabella’s chart didn’t make sense yesterday. There are so many similarities in her test results that could potentially cause her to accept gamma radiation without it poisoning her.”

Natasha lifts her chin with narrowing focus, “Why…?”

He sighs, tongue rolling along his lower lip, “It scares me, because it means there are others out there with untapped abilities. I know what it means if someone like that falls into the wrong hands and no offense, but the fact that SHIELD is interested in this kid makes me uncomfortable.” 

“Oh,’ Her eyes fall over his notes, considering what he’s shared. She inhales, ‘Well, we should know better after meeting her caretaker…are you, coming?”

He nods, snatching up his jacket to lay it over his arms as he finishes buttoning his shirt, “I’m good when you are.”

She smirks, lifting her chin toward his work, “You’re off by one.”

He looks down, unable to spot his mistake. Natasha carefully hovers her fingers toward him first, hesitant to make contact;

“Here, can I…?”

He agrees. Her soft fingers fall over his chest as she lines up his collar. His cologne is calming, offering her a familiar warmth she’s come to enjoy. His chest is warm and damp from this morning’s shower. Her hands slip away from him slowly, comfortable with limited space in between them.   
  


Her wide-eyed Hazel-green eyed stare looking up leaves him momentarily frozen. 

She’s torn from her haze with his simple ‘thanks’.

She nods, “Uh huh…”

Natasha tucks her head as he holds the door for them with his own focus elsewhere.

  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

"Preevet Natalie, Vrach Bruce!" Izabella's eyes light up immediately as she sees the two of them entering her room.

Bruce smiles, attempting a presumable Russian greeting, "Preevet?"

Romanoff gives him a smirk as she continued to talk to the girl, "Kak dela?"

Her big eyes widen, "Yav poryadke."

"Khorosho Izabella."

"Spasibo Skuchat Natalie."

"Moya sem ya sdes is Rossii."

She smiles remaining positive, "Khorosho!"

Dr. Banner leans over whispering in the ear of his 'assistant', "What?"

She whispers back, "She's feeling better and her family is here from Russia."

"Where?"

Natasha shrugs, "Hold that thought,' she turns back towards the girl, 'Gde oni?"

"Razgov arivals medsestroy."

"Chto interesno!,' she turns back towards Bruce, 'In consultation with the nurse.”

Izabella smiles wanting to share more. She is obviously much more talkative and happy today then the night before.

Natasha translates immediately before replying, "Her aunt is going to adopt her.”

Bruce lowers his eyebrows satisfied with the resolution, "Where's the family? Do they speak english?"

Natasha knows what he has in mind, no doubt needing to ensure this girl would be going somewhere safe. She looks at the child,"Yu vashey teti dyadi govoryat na angliyskom yazyke?"

"Nem nogo."

Natasha nods her head 'yes', "Down the hall."

The doctor gently taps her shoulder, "I'll be right back." 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

  
The woman is easy to spot, standing in the corner of a private lobby with an agent at her side. Bruce judges her from a distance, content with her visible expressions. 

He steps forward during a pause in the conversation;

“I’m sorry, are you here for Izabella?”

Banner keeps a professional expression over his face as the woman nods. He does the same and offers a hand to ease her cautiousness;

“I’m Dr. Banner, I’m...helping.”

The older woman wraps her arms around his shoulders to pull him close;

“Spasibo Vrach. Nurse tell us what happen.”

"Yes, um, you’re welcome. So what…”

The woman tucks her hand under his elbow, a slight hobble in her step as the two walk further down the hall. 

Bruce shoves his hands nervously in his pockets, confused by her immediate trust, “So who are you to Izabella? Where will you be taking her?” 

She smiles, able to read the compassion in his tone, “I her Aunt. Love Izabella, she a sweet girl. We go home. To Russia.”

He nods, “She’s been there before?”

The woman waves her hand, “Many, many time. She love the city.”

Bruce reaches to hold the door for them despite the woman having no intention of releasing him just yet. 

Her eyes widen over the sight of her niece, quickly filling with tears as Izabella excitedly sits up for her guest.

Natasha smiles widely as the older makes a run for the other, quick to embrace and hold each other tightly. 

Romanoff gives Banner a glance as if to say ‘they’re fine.’ Bruce gives a knowing shrug. 

It was a happy reunion for Izabella to see her family who were both quick to embrace her in a warm hug. It was comforting to see that they were close, reassuring the physician that she was in good hands.

Natasha makes her way and whispers to Bruce on the sidelines, “Can she be discharged Doc? You trust this lady?”

He smiles, "I think so."

Romanoff addresses the two-some with more Russian, confirming whatever wrap up she needed to complete her mission. 

Natasha reaches to help a now free Izabella to her feet. The girl giggles and wraps her arms tightly around the redhead who crouches to return the embrace.

She plants a kiss on Natasha's cheek before heading over to Dr. Banner. He jumps slightly over her ‘attack’, scoffing as she squeezes tightly, "Thank you."

He smirks, hesitant to return her hug, "Be good Izabella."

As she pulls away, the two giggle over the static electricity. She mumbles something in Russian, Bruce freezes with a cautious eyebrow, giving an additional glance toward the subtle tinge of green on both their palms. Judging from the look in Izabella’s eyes, she’s seen it too. She’s pulled away by a call from her aunt, quickly dismissing the curious encounter.

Bruce rapidly shoves his hand into his pocket as Natasha bravely rests her elbow on his shoulder, holding the other hand on her hip;

"At least she's in good hands."

He grips his neck over ‘hands’, still feeling a strange buzz over his own, "Yeah well. Any chance you can check in with them on occasion?”

She tilts her head sarcastically, “Why? You want a penpal.”

He just shakes his head with an eye roll;

“If I explained you’d call me crazy.”

Natasha removes her elbow from off of him;

“I’ll keep tabs on our girl...off topic, I did a quick scan on our map and there’s a café not far. Are you in a rush to get back or are you up for some tea?”

He swings his hands to the side, “Lead the way Rushman.”

  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

His foot holds the door of the little café, cold hands holding onto his warm cup. She exits holding onto her own coffee with a grumble;

"So, you not only don't speak a lick of Russian, but you also don't understand the phrase 'Let me pay'."

He smiles as they head into Morningside Park, "You’re welcome ‘Natalie’."

She nudges her hip into his as they progress onto the path, “Drop it _Vrach_ Banner.”

Bruce gives a quick chuckle at her nudge, "Answer the question you keep dodging and I’ll drop it.”

"Don't be so clumsy,' her eyes shift downwards in an attempt to hide her own chuckling, 'It's just a cover. It’s not my name.”

He nods, "Why? It was a SHIELD project.”

She points, “Not every agent knows what I look like. And it’s a lot less scary to drop a cover name then say ‘Black Widow’ is taking over the mission.” 

“That’s fair.”

She holds her coffee, deviating only slightly to nudge his side;

“How’s the temporary work with Stark going?”

He nods, one hand in his pocket, “It’s good. We’ve made some progress on the latest readings. Should be able to increase the tracking and detection rate of anything nuclear by 98%.”

She purses her lips and sips from her mug, “That’s good. Compared to yesterday’s 60% estimate- that’s what I saw in the notes on your desk.”

He pauses, unsure if she’s reached a stalker level or is just observant. She lifts her shoulder in the hope that he’ll answer;

“So, with all of that seeming to successfully come to an end, do you plan on leaving? Running off to your next remote city?”

He swirls his tea, “To Oymyakon.”

She snorts and glances into her own cup as he takes a sip of his own, “Except now I know where to find you.”

He lifts a forefinger, “Which means it’s too simple, so you’ll cross it off the list.”

“Reverse psychology doesn’t work on a spy doctor.”

Bruce raises a brow, “If I can dodge the government…”

“You’re no good at dodging me.”

“I don’t want to dodge you.”

There’s a sadness in his voice, one only Natasha can pick up on as the two pauses for the light at the crosswalk. 

Banner rubs a thumb over the lid of his cup, regretting over providing her with too quick of a response. He grips his tea a little tighter and chugs. Moments like this weren't going to make the inevitable 'good-bye' any easier. He can feel she’s slowly tearing down his walls and he can’t deny that it feels good. It feels normal.

Her smile pulls him from his thoughts;

“Where are we headed doc?”

“Oh I’m leading now? I didn’t realize you relinquish that power so quickly.”

“I trust you. I made my contribution with our coffee spot. Find me someplace quiet.”

“Well it’s Harlem…”

She smirks. He nods over her grin, reaching to punch the button for the crosswalk. He fights within himself and finally gives in;

“I might know a place.”


	13. Bella Notte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Natasha enjoy a walk through Morningside. Steve tries to encourage team bonding.

Barton paces the tower, constantly glancing up at the clock, "Stark? Have you heard from Banner? I haven’t heard from Nat. Her tracker is off and I’m getting worried.”

“Geez! That’s some intrusive! Bullshit!”

Barton swings a nearby pillow over Tony’s face, interrupting his seated position with his leg kicking over the edge of the sofa;

“What the-! I’m not worried. She's got the big guy so trust me, no one is going to mess with her...”

Clint nods, "They've been gone for 13 hours Stark.”

"Chill, Robin Hood. Maybe they got a room! Natasha is an adult who can bang who she wants what’s your problem?! Jealous?! You’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“You are! You’re dating her aren’t you? I called it! That damn redhead.”

Steve sits upright at the opposite end of the sofa, "I'll admit, I'm a little worried. Natasha always keeps her tracker nearby unless it’s a stealth mission. And it’s getting a little late for any notice of that.” 

Thor holds his chin remaining serious, "I suggest we try to reach them. I too am concerned with their welfare."

Tony rolled his eyes, "Alright alright! Just take it easy! Clint, you've obviously got her number. I don’t. And I'm almost positive Bruce doesn't have his phone with him. Either that or it's off.”

Barton wrinkles his nose, restraining the urge to flip off the loud mouth engineer.

Rogers moves to stand in the center of the room, rearranging the furniture to provide a circular pattern. Tony raises a hand;

“What the hell man?!”

Steve continues his work and addresses the demigod for aid, “Can you rotate those two to face the sofa?”

Thor agrees and complies with the request. Clint holds the phone to his ear and snarls toward Steve. 

Rogers points, urging Barton to set in the open chair within the circle. 

Stark’s eyes stay wide, “Are we...I feel like I’m in alcoholics anonymous.” 

Rogers takes his seat in all seriousness and folds his hands, 

“Clint?”

“Keep me out of it.”

“Please sit down Barton.”

Thor grins, curious over what is to come;

“We seem to be prepared to share stories.”

Pepper enters the room cautiously, eyes falling on Rogers, “What’s...going on…this looks like when Rhodes and I set up monthly Tony interventions...what’d he do now…”

Steve points to the open space beside Tony, “Hello Miss Potts. You can join us if you’d like. We were just about to enter a state of calm and share. We need to start blending and meshing into a better stronger team.”

“Ooh! Yes. I’m so in. What a wonderful idea Steve!”

She scurries into the open chair, agreeing with the methods presented much to Tony’s dismay. 

Barton growls, “Get me out of this hell.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Natasha can feel her cheeks burning from laughing over his story. She had no idea anyone could make her smile that much, or break down the walls enough for that long of a laugh. Natasha is leaning on a barricade to hold herself upright while Banner grins, clearly way too satisfied with himself over the ability to break her with his humor. He laughs;

“You good there?”

She nods, coughing through a final chuckle. She turns to compose herself;

“So, when can I meet this psycho cousin of yours?”

He chuckles, the light breeze barely able to tussle his curls with his hands cramming back into his pockets, "Jennifer is a handful but, you’d get along with her."

“Clearly,’ She pauses in her steps, eyes looking over the river, ‘Oh wow. You can see all the lights from here. It’s beautiful.”

He smiles standing beside her as he rests his elbows on the short gate. Her eyes are forward, his on her reddened cheeks;

“Thought you’d like it.”

“Well you were right. And your spot for the sunset was perfect.”

He’s back to wringing his fingers, “So, country over city, space over ocean...sunset or sunrise?” 

“Has our conversation really returned to this or that?”

“I’m just asking.”

She thinks for a moment, coming up with her most informative response, “Sunrise. Because the day is still full of possibility.”

“Oddly optimistic.”

“I can be. Describe me in 3 words.”

“Easy,’ he stands upright, ‘courageous, intelligent, selfless.”

Natasha turns her back to the barricade, embracing his answer;

“Describe yourself in 3 words.”

“I have nothing to share.”

Her head tilts, bright red hair illuminated by the lamp above them. He notices a glimmer in her stare when she speaks above a whisper;

“Why not.”

Bruce hides behind his smirk with his head low. She shifts her weight from her left to her right foot while she answers for him;

“Empathetic, sharp-witted, trustworthy.”

The dim lights highlight that light color on her lips and on her upper cheeks, flushed from her laughter and blushing. There is a soft shadow cast over the side of her face, leaving her delicate collar bone and graceful neck exposed to the light. 

Bruce looks down nervously upon spotting her eyes connecting with his own, thick lock falling onto his forehead. He conscious of his heart pounding out of his chest, that same way it always did whenever she looked his way. It’s a sudden statistic he’s aware of though he’s tried to continuously push away. 

Natasha leans forward on the barrier, resting her elbows in the same way he is. Their shoulders are close enough brush, she does, enjoying it when he smiles.

Natasha notices the reflection in his dark brown eyes, absorbing the light that continues to surround them. His soft lines frame the lips that give off a sweet smile. For each of his quirky comments he has some wisdom to share. Some sweet way of sharing that she has value. She feels comfortable with him. Perhaps it is a feeling that goes a little deeper than just admiration. 

He shifts subtly in his position. The day had gotten away from them with neither one even stopping to check the time or give anything else in the world a thought. 

Romanoff brushes her hair behind her ear;

“Bruce?”

“Hmm…”

She swallows her pride, “I really enjoy your company. You’re witty and sarcastic but- no matter how smart you are, you don’t make me feel small. You’re easy to talk to, complex but...human. Is it selfish of me to want you to stay?”

His tongue rolls against the inner part of his cheek;

“Is that why you chose my sutures over SHIELD’s for the past month?”

She lifts a shoulder, refusing to answer with a coy smile. He just holds his focus forward and watches through his peripheral. The warmth from her frame and the cool evening breeze make him talk. His eyes are as honest as his tone;

“Look I…I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

Natasha refocuses out over the water, slightly disappointed in his answer;

“Just don’t leave without saying ‘goodbye’.”

He bites his lip. She breaks their eye contact and looks up into the sky, “It’s a shame you can't see too many stars."

“They’re up there, just hidden,’ He smirks, ‘You can usually spot at least one.”

She looks up toward the vast dark and empty space. Her mind vanishes taking in the light breeze that tosses her hair.

His eyes spot her hand gently gripping the barrier. Noticing she's immersed in the sky he pushes, "Keep looking."

She chuckles feeling slightly dizzy over the vacant air, "Still nothing Bruce."

Bruce stands up straighter, gently sliding one hand over hers, barely touching her skin. He judges her expression, curiously searching for a connection they both felt earlier in the day when she touched his chest. He knows he's caught up in the moment and yet he refuses to ignore it. 

Natasha feels his touch and it causes her heart to skip a beat. An elbow to the face is her typical response, but for her mild-mannered physicist, she consents to the contact. 

His fingertips gently stroke the top of her palm and she doesn't want him to stop. The closeness of their bodies causes her to feel him shifting closer.

Her eyelids are halfway shut as she turns to face him, nose less than a centimeter from his. She listens eagerly as he whispers, almost asking for her permission;

"Natasha."

She releases a sweet sigh, mouth opening slightly with anticipation for him to close the gap. Her eyes shut completely as she replies, "Bruce."

He shuts his eyes as he leans forward, wrapping his tender lips around hers as his fingertips gently lift her chin ever so slightly. She tugs gently back at his lower lip in reply. 

His hands tremble, one subtly and slowly wrapping in her bright red hair. Her hand lifts over his arm, lips compassionately tugging at his over again in a slow motion unable to halt in her restrained yet deliberate movement.

Bruce moans softly to encourage a pause, feeling his heart rate increasing steadily. He gently holds her shoulder with his head low and his eyes shut tight.

He whispers apologetically, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

She raises her eyebrows compassionately in her confession; "I wanted you to.”

He freezes, waiting until his heart rate returns back to normal from the brief adrenaline rush. Her eyes are soft as she tries to comprehend his pause. 

Bruce lowers his head, she deserves better. He regrets feeling confident in her company and potentially invading her space. He’s ignored her confession, “I’m sorry.”

“Why? You’re a good kisser...unless that was your ‘goodbye’?”

He scoffs. She smiles and leans forward to latch her lips onto his once again in a slow and steady movement he gives into.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

  
  
The couple finally return to the tower at 1am, 'greeted' by the boys who wait in the main entryway. 

Clint moves toward Natasha in a panic, "Where were you?! I called you at least three times, why didn't you answer?!”

Tony chimes in glaring at Bruce, "You nearly gave me a heart attack! Seriously! Even Thor was worried."

Steve narrows his focus, "Couldn't you guys call or something…?”

Natasha opens her mouth shocked over Steve’s disappointment in them. Thor just sits quietly in the corner and listens to the others who do the talking.

Bruce remains calm in addressing Stark, "Okay, just take it easy. Everything's fine. We’re back now, no one’s hurt, hopefully…”

Romanoff chimes in, "We're both fine. I’m sorry we didn't call, okay? I didn’t realize I needed to do a check in. I should've left my phone on."

Barton widens his eyes, "It wasn't even on?!"

"Clint, I was in a hospital."

"Okay, what happened after Izabella? You couldn’t have been with a six year old all day.”

She smirks nervously, "Nothing. I just needed some air."

Tony rolls his eyes, "...All day?"

Banner gently replies trying to end the conversation, "It's past midnight can we just go to bed and forget it?”

Natasha widens her eyes towards Clint as she echos his sentiment;

"Really, it's getting late."

Clint crosses his arms, "This from my little night owl?"

Bruce rolls his tongue over Barton’s choice of words, a sudden regret making him feel as if he’s crossed a line. 

Natasha just shrugs her shoulders, "I'm tired.”

Thor leaps at the opportunity, "If I were to state my feelings on the matter, I will agree with Lady Romanoff, for I have also become tired."

The archer rolls his eyes before heading towards the elevator, "Coming Nat?"

Tony plops in his chair, eyes focused on Bruce with a grin on his face. Steve shifts his glance in between the two of them.

The doctor shifts nervously, "What?"

Tony shakes his head. Rogers chimes in, "Knock it off Stark, you're making him nervous."

The billionaire chuckles evilly never shifting his focus, "Oh I know…”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

  
Pepper taps the door frame with a smile on her face, "Good morning Cinderella."

Natasha sends a glare in her direction as she glances away from her mirror adjusting her top in her private apartment. Potts is the guests she wants to see this morning;

“Can I help you?”

Pepper tilts her head, “The cleaners are coming by later, just passing through to give everyone a head’s up. Did you have fun last night?”

She snorts, "It depends. Which one of Tony’s lies are you referring to?"

Pepper invites herself in, "I don't think it was a lie that two people were out past midnight yesterday."

Natasha throws her head back as she closes her eyes. Her cheeks flush as a grin spreads over her face. 

Pepper smiles back leaning on her dresser, "Aren't you going to share it with me?"

"Why would I share anything? There’s nothing to share,” She looks down at her small bag digging for her cosmetic supplies.

"Because you’re trying to pretty up a little extra, no? Bright red lipstick this morning and we’re not having a party.”

Pepper crosses her legs, clasping her hands as she sits on the ledge of Natasha’s nearby chair. 

Romanoff releases a sigh and a glare.

Miss Potts lifts her hand to check her fingernail, “How was it working with the doctor on the mission?”

Natasha tosses her eyeliner dramatically back into her bag, “You're just as bad as Tony.” 

Pepper laughs, “Okay that’s not an amazing compliment.”

Natasha pauses for a moment, "You’ve gotten the wrong idea. I just want to be his friend. I want him to trust me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay…”

”And the makeup?”

Natasha tussles her bag a little extra, accentuating the zipper as she dramatically closes it shut.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce nudges Tony in an attempt to get him to remove his body from off of his shoulder, "Tony, seriously, I can't work if you're hanging on me.”

“Proceed. Act like I’m not here.”

”That’s difficult,” he mumbles.

Stark circles around him as the doctor returns to his work. He pries;

“So what were you doing last night.”

Bruce focuses on his screen as he mumbles a response he’s provided twice already, "We walked around New York, talking, and lost track of time."

"Okay, but for 13 hours? Don't you think we're all a little suspicious?" He crosses his arms waiting for a reply.

Bruce glances around the room lifting his shoulders, "There's nothing to be suspicious about. Next time she’ll be on an outing with Steve or Barton. It’s a free country, we can explore the outdoors until the midnight hours without the cops getting involved.” 

Tony pinches his eyes with a laugh, "Just answer this one little question for me? Do you like her? 'Yes' or 'No'. Cause I kinda need to know.”

Bruce clasps at his fingers, trying to regain his composure despite being interrupted, "I can't answer you bec-"

"Why?"

"I don't know how I fe-"

"Yes you do.”

He looks down giving a nervous smile at Tony's persistence;

“She’s, clearly with someone else. And it’s none of my business. So just leave it alone. Natasha’s just a friend.”

“She said that? Is it Barton? It’s Barton isn’t it…dude I’m so sorry. I know you two were clicking…”

Bruce returns to his project with a shrug, “We weren’t clicking. It doesn’t matter, it’s none of my business.”

Tony sits on Banner’s table, digging into his snack bag. He crunches loudly in an attempt to rile up his employee and snickers over a glance that seems to threaten Stark’s impending death.


	14. Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha learns why Bruce can’t let his guard down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This chapter contains themes of PTSD, anxiety, and suicide.*

Natasha walks briskly down the hallway, her mind not focused on where she's walking. She feels her body ready to collide, yet again, with that man.

He keeps his head down with hands raised to avoid the inevitable. Natasha successfully pauses, papers still slipping from her grasp. Her hands clap at her sides as she looks toward the pages flown from her folder.

Bruce offers a friendly smile and crouches down to collect her papers. 

“I’ve got it.”

She lowers herself across, “Is it the hallway?”

He chuckles, “That corner has a bit of a blind spot.”

He notices the glow in her cheeks and picks up on her familiar citrus perfume. His brown eyes flick upward cautiously as she questions;

“How’d you sleep last night.”

He didn’t. The thought of her trying and succeeding at becoming too close haunting his waking breath;

“Good. Fine. You?”

She lies, the thought of his sweet smile and tender kiss occupying space in her mind;

“Fine.”

“So last night…”

“The lights were pretty,” she cuts him off.

He stands after handing the pages back to her, “...Glad you thought so.”

Natasha stands, eager to replace her focus onto his as she taps her papers;

“Thank you.”

Banner rolls his tongue around his inner lip. If she isn’t inclined to mention ‘it’ then neither will he. Perhaps a momentary relapse in judgement on both parties after all. No harm done.

He smirks, "You're welcome."

Natasha brushes a hand through her hair, “So…”

“So,” he cuts her off.

She nods, her eyes shifting their focus down toward her file;

“I should get this to Steve.”

“And what is ‘this’?” He asks, close enough to point toward her papers. 

She shrugs with a nervous smile, “Just a print out- information on his next mission.”

Bruce tugs at his fingers, the sleeves of his lab coat rolled up. He can’t avoid their awkward tension;

“Natasha, we should talk about…”

“Should we,” The redhead eyes his lips.

His eyebrows lower curiously, “I just want to know what- we- what um. Last night...when. What am I trying to say?”

Her head tilts, “Do you always forget your words?”

He inhales, hesitantly looking into her expressive eyes;

“You make me forget.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Just an observation.”

She bravely lays her hand over his cheek, he catches her fingers, holding them still. She cuts off his whisper by pressing closer. Maybe in this case, actions did speak louder than words.

His initial tense reaction slowly disappears as she keeps a soft and gentle hold on him. 

Inhaling her perfume, his eyes close lightly holding onto her elbow as he whispers softly, “Natasha...why-.”

Romanoff could've exploded herself when she heard footsteps behind her. She feels his heartbeat pick up as the couple stammer to separate. 

Banner forces himself to look down and rotates his body away from hers at the sight of Rogers. Natasha pivots to face their intruder, her eyes wide. 

"Hey guys, wha- ."

She smirks, aggravated by the interruption, “Hi Steve."

“There’s Steve.” Bruce mumbles with pure sarcasm. 

Rogers crosses his arms, eyes roving up and down the two of them. From the way Bruce refuses to look up and the extra flush over Natasha’s cheeks, Steve is afraid to ask. He narrows his stare, "Uh, huh. You guys coming downstairs?"

Natasha nods, “Yep.”

Bruce mumbles, “Papers.”

Romanoff extends her file, “Ehem. These are for you, for your mission. From Fury.”

“Are you always tongue tied Miss Romanoff,” Bruce coughs.

She lifts her foot to softly kick Banner and silence the commentary behind her.

Rogers slowly extends his arms and reaches to take the file. He leans to the right to address the doctor;

“Stark was asking for you.”

Bruce waves, “Yep. I’m on my way.”

“Bruce?” Natasha interrupts.

She’s content over his complete focus. Biting her lip she fights to squash her pesky emotions; 

“Would you want to grab lunch together?”

His eyes shift toward a suspicious Steve. He’s cautious to answer, “Yeah sure.”

Rogers mumbles after Bruce quickly disappears around the corner. He meddles over their lack of a plan, "Did you pick a time….or.”

Natasha tilts her head and gives Steve a sarcastic look, “It’s lunch. I’ll crash his lab with a sandwich in about 4 hours.”

He smiles, “Are you two officially dating?”

“None of your business.”

The Captain nods, receiving a nudge as the Black Widow moves him from her path. 

She rotated over her shoulder with a realization, “Whatever you do, don’t tell Tony.”

Rogers motions to zip his lip.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Bruce keeps his head low, lightly tapping his fist into his mouth as he paces the lab. He hates himself for letting his emotions take over with Natasha. 

His head spins, dreaming up some word for word speech he can give to the woman next time they’re together. Something along the lines of him being too much of a threat and how she should avoid him from now on...

It’s warm in the lab. He addresses the AI as he removes his lab coat;

“JARVIS?”

“Dr. Banner?”

He paces, reaching to dip a handful of pills into his open palm. He sits back onto the bench behind him, knee bouncing over his steadily increasing heart rate;

“Can you lower the temperature, please.”

The ai responds, “It is currently ten degrees lower than your preferred temperature, shall I proceed?”

He takes a deep inhale, panicking over an oncoming anxiety attack;

“Yeah sure.”

“Program set. You should be feeling a difference in-...”

“Thanks JARVIS.”

He lifts his hand to judge the current extent of his shaking. He’s losing control, running a hand through his thick curls to tug aggressively. He’s tired of the stress, the anxiety, the ptsd…

Banner mumbles, fighting with his other half and a permanent image of Natasha’s smile burned into his mind. He bangs a clenched fist into the table, biting the side of his thumb nail. 

He can’t hear the artificial intelligence calling for his attention, eyes fixated forward so as not to notice Stark’s entry behind him. 

The hulk roars in his ears, a smoking circle engulfing the woman he loves. An echo of Betty’s scream causes his heart to pound harder. He relives every moment and mulls over what went wrong. Hulk’s memories seem to overlap with his own as he feels his vision slipping.

A pulsing rhythm crowds his headspace unaware of Tony calling his name or nervously circling around him. The moments pass steadily as he remains in a haze. 

A hand gently rests over his back. The warm feeling of soft fingers causes the pulsating drumming in his head to suddenly stop. Bruce swallows the newly formed lump in his throat, inhaling the scent of a citrus perfume. His breathing begins to steady as he’s suddenly conscious of a smaller figure seated beside him.

Natasha bites her cheek over his blank stare. Her own eyes emitting nothing but compassion for a single tear that slips from the corner of his eye. She closes her own and wraps her arm around her friend to hold him close. 

His tension is easing over her contact so she stays put, laying her head over his shoulder. She’s unsure why he’s gotten himself to this point though she can make a few guesses. Regardless of which is correct, she has no intention of moving.

Tony moves abruptly to enter the lab with a cold glass of water. He freezes over the sight, attentive to Banner’s breathing gradually returning to normal. His eyes widen over Natasha’s ability to soothe the episode. Her closeness would never be tolerated if the engineer gave it a try. 

Tony slips the water on the nearby counter and slowly moves backward to quietly remove himself from the room. 

Outside the door Steve leans in to check on their friend;

“What’s going on?”

Barton interjects, “Yeah you were freaking out like the tower was on fire!”

Tony brushes his lips for them to stay quiet as he carefully closes the door behind him;

“The green in his neck is gone okay- somehow Little Red is working her magic.”

Clint laughs, “Natasha?! Natasha’s soothing the beast….?! Eh. Not surprised.”

“He’s not in full beast mode.”

Rogers attempts to peek through the frosted window, swatted away by Tony. 

Clint looks over his shoulder as Thor comes running down the hall, hammer in hand;

“I have arrived!”

Steve gives the demigod a glance, “I think we’re good, Thor.”

Clint dodges over a slight swing of Thor’s weapon, staring him down. Tony’s eyes widen as he steps forward to address the Asgardian;

“Will you put that thing away?! Before someone gets hurt?”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   
  


Banner clasps his hands together, resting them over his table. They slip, holding onto his elbows as he leans forward and bites at his cheek. 

Natasha keeps silent and just observes as he works to pull himself together. She shifts gently, sore from staying in one position for such a long time. Her hand moves from off of his back as he speaks above a whisper;

“I’m okay Natasha.”

She tilts her head empathetically. She doesn’t believe him. His head turns as he allows her into his world. His raw humanity causes her heart to sink, spotting his red eyed returned stare. 

She stays put, tucking a hand under her head as the other rests over her knee;

“You can talk to me doc.”

His eyebrows lower thoughtfully. She can see him brush his hand over his opposite cheek, presumably from other stray tears she isn’t aware of. 

“Um,’ he sniffles, still not ready to talk, ‘Just, bad memories resurfacing.”

She shifts, her head bowing briefly, “What triggered them.”

He lies, “No idea.”

Natasha pulls in her lips, eyes shifting to an unlabeled empty pill bottles on his desk, tucked behind a photo. 

“Why did you lock yourself in here?”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I don’t remember locking the door?”

She doesn’t answer. He nods, his own eyes spotting the pill bottle. Bruce freezes, his jaw shifting. They share a glance. He debates on addressing them, rolling his tongue over his cheek when he decides there’s no point. 

Natasha keeps her voice low and leans in to speak above a whisper;

“Do you trust me?”

Banner’s chest collapses in a sharp exhale. He wants to smile despite her words hitting on a currently overly sensitive nerve. His hand lifts to cover over his mouth with eyes shut tight. 

Her hand lays over the table, fingertips brushing his;

“I know about the pills. I’ve known for a while. I initially made an assumption and have been trying to find a way to subtly call you out on it, but I should’ve talked to you sooner. I know you’re presumably doing something every night when you think you’re alone and no one is watching.”

He refuses to move. She continues, her fingers brushing his wrist, “I know you’re self harming in some way even though I don’t know how, or what you’re using, trying, testing…”

She swallows hard, pain in her heart as she allows herself to consider what would happen if he were successful;

“...but I need you to skip a day. I need you to hold on and put it off until tomorrow.”

His mouth is dry, a million different questions and emotions swarming through his mind. He doesn’t bother arguing, just parts his tightening jaw momentarily, “Natasha…”

“Why are you doing this.”

His fingers clasp tightly as he taps against the table. His tone stays soft and low;

“I’m a threat Natasha. I’m a walking time bomb.”

She shakes her head, “He won’t hurt me…”

“He can- I can. I could hurt you.”

His guard is slipping. Natasha pauses in her contact, “Bruce…”

He cuts her off, “I told you about Betty. If you, if anyone gets close to me, that’s what happens. I have no purpose, no goals- I’m haunted Natasha. Ever since I can remember honestly...All I hear when I close my eyes are screams. Pick a demographic- I hear it.”

She waits and listens intently. He turns to face her even if he wants to keep hiding;

“You’re one of the few people who has tried to get close to me and is succeeding, quite frankly, but I’m terrified...if ever hurt you…”

“How do you think I feel about you hurting yourself.” 

“The world would be safer…”

“Not better.”

They pause. He shakes his head, eyebrows pinching forward as his breathing alter;

“Natasha…”

She’s stoic, “What.”

“What is this? What do you want from me...I can’t be who you want me to be. I’m not…”

Natasha gives him time to answer, cutting in over his painful stare, “Not what.”

“I’m not Clint. I’m not some hero who can sweep you off your feet like you deserve. I’m nothing special.”

She scoffs, “Bruce…”

He raises his eyebrows as he continues. He’s somewhat curious if he can elicit a laugh from her despite the heavy conversation;

“I sit in a lab all day messing with numbers and chemicals...I can’t take a walk through Harlem without recalling some morbid previous encounter of the other guy destroying the universe. I’m hearing the screams of his prey in my sleep, I can’t breathe without feeling guilty about it because my god- it should’ve been me...I don’t- do friends- I appreciate your effort but I just...I squash my friends. There is nothing I can offer you Natasha…”

Romanoff drops her focus and waits for him to finish before attempting to respond;

“What if I told you I didn’t care. That I didn’t need a hero in my life, just a guy who makes me feel understood. Like I’m no longer alone in the world.”

He sighs. She tentatively reaches her hand back over his shoulder. He tenses;

“I’d say you were a liar.”

He moves to wring his fingers, startled by the sincerity in her focused stare that pierces his soul. His jaw clenches. Natasha pulls her cheeks inward;

“Am I lying?”

He studies her features only to sense honestly. His eyes are sore as he glances downward;

“You think you’ve won.”

“...And the pills?”

Checkmate. He nods over her game well played. He shifts slightly;

“What are you gonna do about it. Put me on house arrest? Send your Hawk to supervise me?”

Natasha tilts her head, “Well I can’t let you hurt yourself...what’s in the drug anyways?”

Bruce acknowledges the bottles with a hesitant response, “They’re a vibranium mix...makes the other guy zen out for a bit.”

Her eyes soften, “And what does that to _you_?”

He lifts a guilty shoulder, “Makes everything slow down, shut down, for better or for worse.”

She nods toward his arm, her eyes low over his rolled up sleeve;

“And those?”

“More mixtures...glazed blades with a goal in mind of creating a bullet.”

For as much as she doesn’t want to hear it she appreciates his outpouring of honesty. He’s on the right track if he plans on another attempt at his own life, causing her own chest to collapse over the thought. 

Natasha’s brows furrow over her inability to hide her emotions as she lifts her head;

“Does this mean you trust me?”

He sighs purely over the pain in her eyes. His voice is somehow softer whenever he talks about her; 

“It’s not you, Natasha. It’s never been you.”

Her hazel green eyes brighten over a softness in his reply, reading the purity of his soul through that expressive cocoa stare. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   
  
  


Barton waves his hand in a subtle gesture as he elaborates to Steve on Natasha’s most recent reading material;

"I’m talking; Nuclear Physics, Gamma Radiation, and today when I go to visit I notice a paperback on depression just tossed on her table. And then! I heard her on the phone last night. She called Fury requesting every file that was ever recorded on Banner."

Steve rolls his eyes over the dramatic tone of voice, “I don’t understand.”

Clint brushes through his spiked hair, messed up from all his pulling and tugging, “Yeah! Exactly! You should talk to her.”

The Captain pinches between his eyes, "I’m not talking about Agent Romanoff, I’m talking about you.”

“Me! What about me?!” He snaps.

Thor chimes in from the corner, "You did mention your observations on multiple occasions. There is a tension in your voice; are you unsure of how close one could actually get to the green giant when he's in human form without eliciting a negative emotional response?”

Clint grits his teeth and cracks his knuckles. Rogers just shrugs. 

Stark looks up from his sprawled out position on the sofa, thoroughly amused by swiping through Barton’s personal device;

“You got a date with Romanoff?!”

Steve smacks his open palm against his forehead as he grumbles under his breath. 

Clint leaps forward to snatch his device back, “What are you doing going through my shit you sick twat.” 

Tony sits up with dramatic gestures, “What are you yelling at me for? You left it out!”

“It was locked!”

“Not when I touched it!”

Thor laughs, turning away from the group with an eye roll, “How petty.”

Stark points to the blonde, “Go to your room!”

Clint prepares a swing, aiming toward the engineer. Steve yells above the noise;

“Alright! That’s enough!...What did we talk about the other day?! In regards to personal privacy! We set boundaries, right?”

Tony chuckles with his eyebrows raised, “Oh you think we listen when you talk? That’s cute. Show of hands, come on birdbrain, point break, raise your hand if anything that comes out of grandpa's mouth is relevant. Go ahead I’ll wait.”

Thor raises his hand slowly, “I find it relevant.”

Tony sighs, glancing over his shoulder. Barton crosses his arms and shakes his head ‘no’. The engineer points, “Ok. He can stay. After he explains what the hell ‘dinner with Nat’ means on his calendar.” 

Clint narrows his focus, “It’s the second Thursday of every month. She picks the spot, we go out.”

“On a date.”

“It’s not a date.”

Tony takes a moment to breathe, “Can I just- mmm. Okay. Just tell me.”

Barton grins to himself and holds a focus as he steps away, “You’re really that butthurt over it.”

“Birdbrain!”

“Metal ass!”

“Robin Hood-! I can do this all day.”

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"Where's Bruce?" Natasha waits with a cup of tea later in the week, eyes roving as she paces the lab containing the busy engineer. She’s kept her visits light and brief for the most part, cautious not to overwhelm her friend. 

Tony replies quickly with his eyes never leaving his 3D model, "In his apartment."

She raises her voice subconsciously in a bit of a panic, “Alone?!”

“No, with his girlfriend-! What?! The guy can't take a shower without your permission?! He said he was coming back."

Natasha places her teacup on the nearby desk. She shakes her head;

"You can't leave him alone right now."

"Relax Little Red, he's okay.”

She crosses her arms, debating on how much she should share, “Well, he’s not.” 

Stark finally looks away from his monitor, “What’s going on.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, giving in over the concerned expression over his face;

“Look, I'm supposed to go out with Clint tonight, but I'm not leaving if you're not going to keep an eye on him.”

“Why…”

"He's just going through some severe depression right now and if we don't watch him, he could end up, doing something stupid.”

“What do you mean by ‘stupid’.”

Her head lowers as she fumbles her fingers over the small USB;

“I just mean stupid.”

The engineer takes a deep inhale, calling out for JARVIS as he adjusts some security footage from behind the screen;

“How serious is this? Does it have anything to do with I don’t know, taking a crazy amount of small orange pills?”

She lifts an eyebrow, “He’s testing- but, I think I have been able to talk him down.”

“And you didn’t think it was important for me to know?!”

Natasha gives him a glare, “Sounds like you’ve been aware of it and didn’t tell me.”

“Whatever. And now you’re off onto your side guy…do you even care about Bruce?!”

Natasha focuses on the small stick in her hand, “I requested some information on our mutual companion. Fury sent over about 20 private video files.”

Tony's eyes widen as he leaps at the opportunity to snatch them from her hands, "Oh my god! Why do you have that?! Give it to me!"

She pulls just out of his reach, "Jealous?"

He circles around her ready to steal it from her grip, "I'm serious Natasha! He’s a private guy and you’re betraying his trust in too many ways.”

“And you’re gonna stop me? You’re not curious? I just wanted to get to know him better."

"He's gonna be furious if he finds out we have anything on him. You should let me hide that."

"Nice try Stark. I'll hold onto it."

He rolls his eyes, "That's smart. Walk around New York City with Banner's information. What if you lose it?!”

Natasha tilts her head sarcastically;

"Look, if I can hide 2 guns, 3 knives and bottle of pepper spray everywhere I go, I think I can handle a little micro-chip."

Tony widens his eyes, "Seriously...You're hiding all that? Right now…”

Natasha turns ignoring his comment, "Eyes up. When I get back we'll have our own ‘midnight movie night’.”

Stark drops his hands, "I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I, but I want to know.”

“Fair. Can we talk about Barton now? So I can get back to my science?”

Natasha rolls her tongue over her lip. She is aware of the bond between Bruce and Tony and of Stark is anything like Clint, he won’t back up until she shares.

She settles on the edge of his work station;

“Alright. Sit down Stark.”

He complies, eager for the details. She runs her hand through her hair;

“Clint and I are not dating.“

“Liar!”

”Maybe there was an attraction at some point but- that’s none of your concern. Barton is a really good friend. He’s saved me in so many ways. And he’s given me a purpose. Now on the topic of science, I like Bruce-...”

“I knew it!”

She glares, waiting for him to settle before she continues;

“He’s a good friend and I’d like it if we could work together to be there for him right now. Is that acceptable?”

“Mightily.”

Natasha stands, hiding the chip in her pocket, “Now please go upstairs and check on your partner in crime."

Tony complains, "He’s gonna find out about that- stick.”

“No, he won’t. Fury got it from an unknown source,’ she continues to talk as she walks, "And I’m gonna send Clint to watch him.”

"He'd do that?"

"I'll persuade him."

"With bird seed or a $20?"

She turns around with a voice full of sass, "Hawks are carnivores.”

Tony crosses his arms, “Alright! Stop judging me!”

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

  
  
  



	15. Pain of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha confides in Clint. Bruce and Clint are finally able to talk under the guise of a SHIELD project. Tony and Natasha learn more about Banner’s past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter contains descriptions of abuse, human experimentation and torture.

Natasha shuts her eyes dropping the menu onto the table. She adjusts her sunglasses and crosses her knee;

“Ok, I know what I want.”

He keeps a consistent ice block in between his teeth, crunching loudly just to get a reaction from her.

She reaches for her own glass and attempts to shovel ice into her mouth;

“How many.”

He chuckles spitting his block back into the cup, "Are you serious?"

She smiles feeling the chill on her teeth. Clint shakes his head over her laugh;

“Five.”

She nods, spitting them back into her glass, “Your turn.”

He talks with his mouth full, already having started his own challenge.

"Five?”

His head tilts back, making room for more. He raises his thumb and points upward for her to keep going.

“Seven.”

He gags, spitting them back up and out over the balcony toward the bushes. Natasha glances toward the other table beside them;

“I don’t think that elderly couple is impressed with your circus trick.”

He sits back and focuses on Natasha;

“Are we gonna have a serious conversation or do you want me to keep entertaining you.”

She crosses her arms, head tilting slightly;

“We could talk about work. Fury sent me a summary mission slip.”

“Frick no.”

She smirks, “We could talk about the team.”

Barton glares, purposely lowering his own sunglasses to express his disgust;

“You’re not around them enough.”

“Exactly,’ she switches her crossed knee, ‘If you are out a lot, hiding in your apartment, or just plain avoiding, they won’t bother you.”

Clint nods, leaning forward, “How about we talk about you and your sudden interest in Nuclear Physics. I’ve been in your room, I see the books.”

She shifts nervously in her seat. He sighs, leaning back in his chair. His voice is calm and soothing, "Nat, talk to me. You're my best friend. I have no idea what your deal is- if Fury secretly hired you to knock him off or if you’re actually interested.”

Natasha pulls at her inner cheeks, gnawing at the side. Barton keeps his focus;

“Just tell me ‘yes or no’ and I’ll drop it. We don’t have to talk about it cause I don’t really care about whatever’s going on but I care about you. And you’re acting weird. Wanna make sure you’re good. Are you good?”

She stacks her hands over her knee and nods, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Okay,’ he nods, ‘So do I need to punch this guy cause he’s dating you or aid in a knockout.”

Natasha sits on her hands, unable to settle, “I like being around him Clint. Bruce listens, he cares. He’s kind and gentle.”

Barton scoffs, “I see a guy who keeps dodging his appointment with anger management but okay.”

She smirks over the thought, “I think Hulk only comes out when Banner is threatened. He’s not some walking, ‘time-bomb’.”

He laughs, “Alright. As long as you’re happy Nat. Just know I’m always here for you.”

“I know you are.”

He pulls in his lips with a sigh, “So no more midnight rough housing in the gym? Second Thursday of the month dinners?”

She raises an eyebrow, “That’s our thing, and honestly I don’t think Bruce would mind- I mean- if we were a-whatever.”

Clint lifts his hands over his head, “That late walk through Morningside wasn’t a date?”

She watches his foot brazenly occupy the chair to the right, “Not, officially.”

“Your pestering in his lab isn’t cause he wants to see his girlfriend?”

“No I mean,’ she laughs, ‘I’m pretty sure the tower thinks you and I are dating.”

“Oh I know. I lost count of how many stupid questions I’ve gotten just this week.”

She sips her water and keeps her eyebrows raised, “Not to sound crazy but you’re in my apartment a lot.”

“Yeah! Because you’re the only one who makes sense in the house.”

“Well thank you.”

“Does Banner have a problem with it? Our past?”

She rolls her eyes, “He’s not problematic. I think if he had a question he’d ask.”

“Okay but what about-...”

Her focus narrows, “You said you’d stop asking.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She brushes her thumb over the table upon spotting a scratch, “Actually I do have a question. It’s somewhat off topic?”

“Shoot.”

“Do you remember when I was, dark, and not myself.”

“Yeah, every mission to Russia.”

Her head tilts, “I’m serious Clint.”

He releases a heavy sigh, “Yeah. Why?”

She bites the bullet, reaching to remove her sunglasses, “Bruce is going through something right now and I’m trying to be there. How did you do it? Without coming across intrusive or in my face.”

Barton just shrugs, “I listened. You needed to talk. So I let you talk.”

“I try to make him talk but it’s impossible sometimes.”

“Sounds familiar...look, you can’t force someone to confide in you.”

“He has shared a lot but I know there’s more and I’m curious…”

His tone changes based on the guilty expression over her face, “What’d you do.”

She bites her lip, “I might’ve tracked down some files.”

“Nat…”

“Just! A couple.”

He sighs, eyes rolling into the back of his head, “That is not how you build trust.”

“I know, but I- I know...I was wondering if you’d, possibly, be willing to keep an eye on him tonight? While I browse those?”

Clint’s eyes narrow, “Let me get this straight; Not only are you invading your crush’s privacy, but you need me to help you do it.”

She waits with her eyes widening to prey on him, batting her eyelashes. Clint laughs;

“You savage battler.”

“Hey there, are we ready to order?” 

The waitress interrupts. Natasha holds her focus with her knee crossed, head tilted and a smirk on her face. 

Barton shakes his own;

“Yeah, I guess we are.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Tony pounds the doctor’s door with his fist, brazen attitude coming through;

"Don't really care if you're still throwing up cause I'm coming in."

No answer. Stark rolls his eyes as he pushes the door in. Tony crosses his arms as he enters to spot the doctor laying over his bed. His head is under a pillow, button down shirt untucked and half unbuttoned. 

Bruce groans. His most recent run to release the Hulk was ending poorly. Tony just chuckles;

"Out of energy big guy?"

He mumbles inaudible from underneath the pillow. Tony swings an arm over the chair to pull in closer to Banner’s bedside;

“Hulk behaves in case you were curious. He’s started responding to me a bit more. I think he likes me.”

No answer. Stark holds a smirk;

“You’ve been up here, for about eh...4 hours? According to JARVIS, you’re puking excessive amounts of Virbranium- does that sound right?”

Bruce gives in and removes his pillow to share a glare with Stark. He reveals his tosses curls and cheeks flushed red. The engineer just continues;

"I’m willing to bet you haven't eaten anything since the hulk out- can we call it that?! How does that work? Can I get you a meal? What do you want?”

Banner makes a sound wrinkling his nose as he turns onto his back;

“Talk about food and I might throw up on you."

He snickers, "Point taken.”

Bruce holds his head, “How’d you get Hulk to do his thing?”

“I showed him my pretty face. He called me ‘Metal man’ and we bonded. I flew around and had him chase me. Broke a few trees. Was great. Just don’t tell Red cause she’ll try to outdo me. She’ll try to touch him or something which I avoided, out of RESPECT. Because I RESPECT, your space. I respect his space. I am a true friend, Dr. Banner, and you can tell me anything.”

Bruce stays frozen over Stark’s odd choice of words and nods after a moment of silence, “...Right.”

Tony crosses an ankle over his knee, “So tell me about the Golightly project. What are these A-B enhancements you made yesterday?”

“Oh, so I did an analysis on-...,’ the physicist forces himself upright, ‘Give me a minute.”

Stark lifts a cautious eyebrow, watching his friend’s expression change;

“Oh boy…”

Banner lifts a finger, quickly standing from his bed to rush back into his bathroom. Tony cringes in his chair, listening to the unraveled doctor coughing up whatever is left inside his stomach;

“You sound great!”

Stark removes a device from his pocket, sending Pepper a quick request for a ginger tea. He looks up surprised when there’s a knock at the door, standing to greet an assumed Pepper. 

The door opens to reveal a stern faced archer. For as quickly as the door opens Tony slams it shut in Barton’s face. 

He growls over a second knock and reopens the door begrudgingly upon remembering Natasha’s plan;

“What do you want.”

Clint pushes the engineer aside and steps into the apartment. He glances toward a second opening door. Bruce makes eye contact with Clint, his focus wide and slightly startled by the guest. He quickly shuts his own door to avoid any potential confrontation. 

Clint circles with his arms raised, “What did I do?”

Banner reopens the door to his bathroom, somewhat more put together with his shirt tucked;

“Hi Clint. What can I do for you?”

The archer fumbles with a paper in his pocket, a makeshift model created by Natasha as a diversion. He hands it over;

“For Fury.”

Bruce reaches for his glasses and studies the diagram. He snickers, 

“For real?”

Barton stays stern, jaw twisting;

“You don’t need a lab for that right.”

“No,’ he moves toward his desk, ‘I just need a couple of hours.”

Barton looks over his shoulder toward the engineer who shrugs over a secret game well played between the small group. Tony consents;

“Yo Brucie, you’re cool if I leave you with the bird and head down to the lab?”

“Uh huh.”

Clint tucks his hands into his pockets as he shares a glance with Stark before he leaves. 

Banner gives the archer a cautious look over his shoulder, “You don’t, have to stay. It’ll be a bit.”

“I’ll wait,” Clint replies abruptly.

Bruce does a double take, “Can I get you something?”

Barton circles the space, inviting himself to a small stack of books on the coffee table;

“Do you mind?”

He shakes his head ove Hawkeye’s odd nature, “Nope. Indulge yourself.”

“I will,” he makes a selection and invites himself onto Banner’s small sofa, crossing his ankle over his knee as he flips through the borrowed selection on Volgograd, Russia, Natasha’s hometown. The archer smirks to himself over Bruce and Natasha’s secretly reading up on eachother, suddenly feeling less guilt over their diversion. He mumbles to judge the doctor’s interest;

”Nat’s memories of Russia are pretty muddied.”

Bruce pauses in his writing, keeping his back to the archer;

”And why is that.”

”Red Room. Her family. Ivan.”

The doctor twirls his pen thoughtfully;

”Hmm. Who was she before it all went down.”

Clint smirks, satisfied with his response, “No one knows.”

”You do.”

Barton takes a moment to breathe, “...how much do you want to know?”

Bruce mumbles, “As much as you’re able to share without her murdering you.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Natasha keeps her focus on the stalking process, browsing through basic files and documents on Banner. She’s fixated on Hulk as Tony enters, groggy with a bottle in hand;

“You started without me.”

“What can take down the Hulk? Why Virbranium.”

Tony enters the password for a screen opposite hers and types to hack into his employees work files, “Banner’s gotta have some kind of record - oh look, it’s all coded.”

Romanoff leaves her screen and steps around to see Tony’s. She shakes her head knowingly, “He’s using the periodic table.”

“Come again?”

“He’s using twenty-six of the one hundred and eighteen elements to code.”

Stark reaches to hug his shoulder, “And how did you pick up on that so quickly…”

“I read. I go to the library and dedicate time and energy into my friend’s interests,” she replies in a snarky tone.

The engineer just shakes his head, “Getting back to that mystery file of yours…”

She reveals it and attaches it to her own station. She opens the file eagerly and carelessly switches on the first video. Even without sound she’s startled by the sight, her eyes going wide. 

“What Red?” Tony steps to her side curiously as they watch. 

With a quick dull glow, a security tape opens to expose a bruised, battered Banner, in a cold empty room as he hacks up streams of blood.

Both Natasha and Tony jump in their seats watching a taller man punch his jaw. They lean forward, anxiously waiting for him to transform for pure revenge, he tries, he can't.

A quick cut edits to the next scene, showing him poked and prodded by some deranged individual. He’s tied and gagged, stuck with needles, tubes and knives as his scarlet radioactive blood pours over and through the equipment. His muffled screams from the gag, echoing off the walls of the empty room. The men in white lab coats treat him worse than an animal.

Barely a minute passes before Tony swipes his finger across the screen. He's holding his head as she whips her head around back toward the engineer who is currently green with nausea.

He shrugs, “You want a scotch?”

She lowers her head, beyond angry, "I want to know who the man in that white lab coat is.”

Stark shuts his eyes, the images stuck in his mind, “I might be dipping out Red, this feels slimy.”

She clutches her gut, eyes wide with her jaw clenching;

“I need to know.”

She jumps as the video progresses, barely watching him get thrown to the ground by yet another scientist, no doubt trying to work the hulk out of him.

Bruce, the compassionate doctor who would never hurt anyone by choice, was tortured and treated like he was nothing more than an object. Watching him get experimented on bothered her the most. Even scientists cleaned their experiments before usage, but not one of his enemy's had a heart to numb his body.

Tony holds his head, feeling sicker with every image that flashes up on the screen. For every exposed bone, hulk roar, and drop of blood he takes a drink. 

Natasha Romanoff holds her breath as her eyes shift over the screen. Her head tilts, noticing a dark haired woman behind the hulk as he was shot, over and over again. She sits up straighter, her eyes focusing on that reoccurring figure.

Tony wrinkles his brow, "Who is she?”

She remains quiet...

The dark haired woman looked completely terrified, wrapping his limp and 'de-hulked' body into her arms, rubbing her finger over his wrist for a pulse.

Natasha holds her cheek. Tony glances her way breathing a heavy sigh, pained just as much as she is.

Natasha whispers, grinding her teeth over the man in his professional suit, "Who is that Bastard. He's been in every other footage."

Stark opens his mouth in shock. He never imagined the General whom he worked with would have this much negative affiliation with Bruce, "Ross."

“Ross as in...General Ross, Elizabeth Ross’...father…”

Natasha has her pieces together, ready to close the footage before Tony urges her to wait. 

The dark haired girl is thrashed into the ground and brutally murdered by this unknown enemy as the hulk no doubt yells out in pure agony and grief. Moments later as a human, he cradles her limp body, tears continuously streaming down his face.

Romanoff shifts her gaze to the bottom left of the screen, that particular scene dated exactly 6 months ago. She quickly closes out the video.

A police report is next. It is on a guilty murderer by the name of, ‘Brian Banner.’ Her eyes scan quickly through records, jobs, and a restraining order filed by an ‘Elaine Banner-Walters’.

She’s numb as she reads through documented evidence of child abuse, photos of bruises, and broken bones of a young, Robert Bruce Banner. She strong enough to stay focused on her mission, stomaching the excessive criminal records of his father only barely. 

Stark covers his mouth, debating on finishing the rest of his bottle;

“Hey Nat, this needs to be burned. I’m not sure anyone else in the tower needs to read this.”

She’s too focused to answer, locating an obituary and autopsy taken on a ‘Rebecca Banner’ as requested by another relative. 

Natasha takes a deep inhale as she calculates Bruce’s age for the earlier events. She swallows, recounting her own traumatic past and the familiar situations she’s endured. 

Stark steps quietly back to his screen, unable to blink normally or offer some sarcastic remark. 

Natasha pauses in her digging as she hovers her finger over another loaded video. She clenches her fist instead and clears the files from her screen. Removing her microchip, she drops it onto the ground and forcefully crushes it underneath her boot.

  
  
  
  
  



	16. Reasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha gives Bruce 100 reasons why he should stay.

"Good morning Miss Potts." Steve unravels a box of doughnuts on the common table, clearly meant for the owners of the place as a sign of gratitude. 

She smiles and steps forward to snatch one up with her coffee in the opposite hand, "Oh wow. Thanks Steve."

"You're welcome ma'am."

Tony rubs the back of his neck, face in a daze as he wobbles into the kitchen. He’s half dressed and the most disheveled Steve has ever seen.

Pepper crosses her arms over his quiet nature;

“Oh, aww...Are you hung over Tony? Is that what’s going on?”

His head remains low and his voice quiet, "Yeah.”

Pepper smacks her hand upside his head. Tony’s jaw drops;

“OW-! Virginia Potts!”

“Tony Stark!” She responds back with an extra ounce of sass and reaches for a second doughnut.

He cuts her off by smacking her hand away and snatching up her intended victim. She gasps as he shoves it into his mouth;

“Excuse me.”

“You’re excused.”

Rogers turns in his uncomfortable situation to greet Thor and an exhausted Romanoff. The demigod greets his companions while Natasha quickly snatches up a soda from the beverage fridge. She keeps her expression blank as she aggressively uncaps and chugs her drink while facing the wall. 

Pepper gives the girl a side eye, shifting between Stark and Romanoff. She raises her voice and smacks her hand on the table loudly as Barton enters the room with a smirking Banner;

“Alright! Now that everyone’s present, why do you tell me what you were doing last night?! Maybe the rest of the team can enlighten me somehow. What needs to be done until 3:43am?! Because believe me I checked the clock!”

Natasha rolls her eyes away from view while Tony digs himself further into a hole;

“We were just-! Watching videos-!”

Pepper snarls, “Oh videos. What kind of videos need to be watched at 3 in the morning?! Natasha? Tell me, do you have a hangover?! Were you drinking too Clint?! Do I need to scold you as well about how damaging that is to your liver…!”

Natasha smiles sarcastically and rotates to face and speak for the group, “I was not but I can assure you, ‘mom’, if I was intentionally spending time with your boss for the fun of it, I’d be completely wasted five times over Tony’s current level.”

Clint just shrugs with a mumble as he glances toward Banner who does the same, “We had a good night.”

“Pretty good.”

“Educational?”

“Very.”

Tony shakes his head, confused by their new dynamic.

Pepper sighs, somewhat embarrassed as she taps her thigh, “Oh! Well! Nevermind. Carry on.”

Natasha gives a sideways glance and smiles to herself, twirling the can of cold soda in her palm.

Tony glares as Pepper snatches up her pocketbook and her keys, “You have to work?”

“Yes, Tony. Your ‘Golightly’ project? It got approved.”

Stark sits back and shares a glance with Banner, “Oh...nice work.”

Natasha leans her back against the counter, watching cautiously as Clint and Bruce make their way further inside the common space. With a subtle nudge and reassurance Banner isn’t watching, Clint lifts his hand in a pretense to scratch his ear, “What’d you learn.”

She talks through her teeth, “Enough.”

Clint just shrugs, “I shared some, info. Hope you don’t mind.”

She shakes her head. Barton crosses his arms, “You look like you’ve seen death.”

Natasha tilts her head, her eyes solidly locked onto his, “Like I’ve seen it 19 times. Literally.”

His eyebrows raise. She nods and continues, “By the same sicko.”

“Who?”

She sips her drink to hide her lips from view as she whispers, “General Ross. He’s been hunting him for years.”

“Lovely.”

“Ain’t it,’ she changes demeanor as the doctor rests against the table on the opposite side, ‘Hi Bruce.”

“Morning Natasha,” Banner shoves his hands into his coat pockets as she inhales his soothing cologne. 

He stands by her while he warms his tea. She reaches into the drawer to locate a mango tea bag and offers it with a smile, he accepts. She focuses on him while Clint observed over her shoulder;

“How’d you sleep?”

Bruce shrugs, thrown off by Barton’s presence, “Fine.”

He gasps a bit when arms wrap around him from behind, squeezing a bit too tight for comfort. Tony presses his cheek up against the startled doctors back;

“What up Bruce.”

The physicist offers a pat over the engineers arms, eager to be released, “...Not much...could you, um.”

“Sorry.”

“Thanks.”

Tony leans his elbow in front of the doctor’s face as he tries to mix his tea;

“What are your plans for Friday.”

Bruce shakes his head, “Can we take one day at a time?”

Natasha bites her lip, “We have yoga on Wednesday.”

Clint interjects, “Nat and I wrestle in the gym three times a week if you wanna crash.”

Thor grins from his quiet position, “I would enjoy destroying the both of you.”

Pepper checks her watch, “Okay, I gotta go. Can I get a hug or would that take away from your loving on Banner?”

Stark smirks and moves to scoop Pepper off her feet. She giggles, begging for him to put her down. 

Bruce shakes his head, tea in one hand while his other finds a pocket;

“I’ll be in the lab.”

Thor waves, “Join us again Banner! I look forward to building our- what was it? Patriotic Man?”

Steve shakes his head and holds his cheek, “What are you talking about…? Team-bonding?”

“Yes! That’s the one!,’ his volume raises, ‘We shall be bonded soon!”

Bruce waves and quickly makes a dash for the elevator around the corner. Natasha hides her face in her hands and rubs her forehead, listening to Barton laugh evilly beside her;

“Suddenly I don’t blame the guy for wanting to run away.”

Romanoff lifts her soda in an impulsive move to dump her drink onto Barton’s head before Stark interjects, “So what’s the plan.”

Natasha frowns, “What are you talking about.”

He keeps his voice low, “We need an intervention, no? Something to talk Brucie out of it right? So what’s the plan?”

“What plan- you act like I’ve done this before.”

Clint crosses his arms as he joins their conversation, “I have. Remember when I wrote you that letter?”

She nods, “I still have it, somewhere.”

Tony scoffs, “I don’t write letters. And Brucie is sentimental but good luck getting him to take more then one sappy paragraph seriously.”

“He would read it, but I get what you’re saying,’ she sighs heavily and rolls her tongue over her cheek, ‘You got a pen?”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He smirks trying to be especially polite as Natasha enters the lab, "Miss Romanoff."

She smiles, toying with a folded page in between her fingertips;

“Vrach Banner...what are you working on now that Golightly is a go?”

He scoffs and wrings at his fingers, “Not sure yet. But some of the greatest theories are found by accident.”

She hums and moves toward his workbench. Natasha can’t look at the screen without remembering the night prior. Her eyes empathetically shift back onto the doctor;

“Just wondering, how you’re feeling about- things. Life.”

He releases a sigh, eager to move from off the topic, “Fine. How are you adjusting to the tower? Getting used to your fellow inmates?”

She scoffs, “Oh gosh. You make it sound miserable.”

“Mandatory check ins with Fury.”

She points, “It’s the cleaners that drive me crazy. They move my books around and I can’t ever find my wristbands or smaller items.”

“Same,’ he shares a smile, ‘Question; You can change one thing about the tower for yourself, what would it be?”

She lifts a shoulder, “More space in the gym.”

“Why.”

Natasha laughs nervously. In recalling she’s already told him, her tension eases, “For dance. I miss it sometimes.”

“Good to know.”

Natasha lowers her focus and lifts her folded page over the table, “So. I’m not the only one who sees you, going through something. I think even Steve has noticed your preference to be alone.”

He bites his lip, forcing himself to keep listening to the redhead even if he is ready to make a break for the exit. 

She catches his eyes falling onto the door when she leans forward to touch his hand, “Look; I know you can come up with a million reasons for why you don’t belong. For why you shouldn’t stay, why you shouldn’t fight…”

He nods, tongue moving over his cheek. Natasha calculates his interest will only last about one minute longer. She hands over the folded page;

“What if I told you we came up with one hundred for why you should.”

His brown eyes shift down suspiciously, trembling as he takes the paper from her hands. She pulls in her cheek and sits back on the bench, focusing on his expression. 

He keeps his head down opening the letter out of pure curiosity with every intent of mocking every single word. He shakes his head seeing the numbers, they really did came up with 100, and it was beyond obvious which ones came from Tony;

1) To Live for Tomorrow.

2) To Smile Knowing You Made It Through a 'Storm'.

3) People Need You.

4) To Make Memories.

5) To Stop Tony From Blowing Up His Lab.

6) You're a Strong Person

7) To Patch Up Natasha When She Comes Back From a Mission (because she trusts no one.) 

8) To Help Another Orphaned Russian Little Girl.

9) For Blueberries!

10) For Science!

11) To Have A Good Dream

12) To Catch Stark When He's Falling. (Literally)

13) To Smash Things

14) To Stop Aliens from Invading NYC

15) Tea (Herbal)

16) To Walk Through Morningside Park.

17) To Laugh Over Something Your Cousin Did.

18) To Remember That Special Someone

19) You're A Genius

20) To Read A Good Book

21) Physics!

22) To Feel Like You Belong

23) To Experience A New Adventure

24) To Feel the Sun on Your Skin

25) To Annoy Someone With Big Scientific Phrases

26) To Fight For What You Believe In

27) To Prove Your Father Wrong

He swallows, “This just keeps going doesn't it.”

Natasha smiles quietly.

28) To Be Yourself

29) Sunrises

30) City Lights

31) To Keep A Secret

32) To Share A Secret

33) To Know That You Are Never Alone

34) Remind Natasha Not To Remove Her Patches

35) To Come Up With A Witty Remark

36) For Someone to Catch You When You're Unsteady On Your Feet.

37) To Fix Tony's Reactor

38) To Hear Natasha Humming Moon River

39) To Receive A Compliment on Some Simple Observation.

40) To Get a Second Chance

41) To Make A Friend

42) To Learn A Little Russian

43) To Cover Stark When He Screws Up

44) To Feel A Cool Breeze

45) To Make Someone Else Feel Like A Million Bucks 

46) To Have Your Best Friend Catch You In An Awkward Moment

47) Your Expressive Brown Eyes

48) To Know That You Are A Part of A Team

49) To Know That You Have a 'Family'.

50) To Share Your Jacket

51) To Brush Away My Tears

52) To Feel Someone Brush Yours

53) To Cut Off The Circulation In My Finger Tips.

54) To Hear Thor Shouting At 4 In the Morning

55) To Feel Someone Rest On Your Shoulder

56) To Know That You’re Not Alone 

57) To Comfort a Broken-Hearted Assassin

58) (You Still Need A Coverup Name) 

59) To Own a Pet

Bruce shrugs and pushes his glasses further up his nose, “I do like dogs.”

Natasha rests her cheek on her hand, “I know. Me too.”

60) To Clear That 'Red In Your Ledger'

61) Help Someone Else Clear Theirs

62) Give Yourself Time To Heal

63) To Have That Special Moment.

64) To Hear Someone Scream Your Name Because You Left The Computer On AGAIN

65) To Know That Someone's Got Your Back

66) A Warm Embrace

67) To Feel Someone Rub Your Back

68) To Stay Out Past Midnight

69) Because You're The Sweetest Person I've Ever Known

70) Your SARCASM and Nervous Habits

71) To Hold Someone Who Cares About You

72) To Know That You Didn't Give Up

73) To Know That You Made A Difference

74) To Know That Someone Else Can Feel Your Pain

75) Pull Pranks On Pepper!

76) (I Still Need A Tour Guide.)

77) To Know That You Lived Your Life Completely

78) To Feel Wanted

79) To Catch A Snowflake on Your Nose (Bet You've Never Tried It)

80) To Get That Second Chance

81) Because I'd/We'd Fall Apart Without You

82) Because The World Would Lose A Hero

83) Because You're Beautiful 

84) There's A Lot More To Learn and to Invent

85) What about when we could use 'a little worse?'

86) You Have Memories That Need To Be Made

87) Me! Your Science Bro! Would Literally Throw Himself In A River! 

88) When You Reach the Bottom, The Only Place Left To Go Is Up.

89) Late NIGHT Chinese

90) Late Night Science

91) Because the World Would Suck Without You

92) Your Cousin...You're All She's got

93) Counting The Stars In A Clear Sky

94) You've Still Got So Much To Give

95) I'd Miss Your Cologne

96) It Will Get Better, I Swear.

97) The Pain Will Ease.

98) I'd DIE Without You!

99) Because Tomorrow Could Be The Best Day Of Your Life.

100) Потому что вы любили доктора баннер - Because You Are Loved Dr. Banner.

Natasha lowers her head when he forces a nervous huff. She hears him swallow and his glasses click as he removes them. 

He folds the page, squinting to pinch his inner tear ducts. 

She watches him nod and shake his head. He refocuses his brown eyes onto hers, “Thanks.”

Natasha leans forward, content when he does the same. The sincerity in one another’s stare offers a safety net when she whispers;

“You can have a home here, Vrach…with us.”

He nods with a kind-hearted smile, “...‘us’?”

“With me…” she responds without missing a beat. His nose is an inch from hers when he lowers his head over a sudden intrusion from Tony Stark;

“Great news basket cases-!- Not you Bruce, you’re amazing; Golightly has been approved AND bought by your first client. Isn’t that beautiful?!”

“Very,” Bruce focuses on Natasha, not hearing a word Tony has just shared. Her head gradually lifts with her eyes meeting his.

Stark releases an exasperated exhale;

“You good Red?! Can I talk to my employee? Alone?”

Natasha raises her eyebrows and stands slowly, “Sure! Not going to stay if I’m in the way.”

Bruce offers her an empathetic grin and makes his comment toward Stark, “You know, it was Natasha’s idea to set up the geometric sequencing on Golightly.”

Tony gives her a look, “Really? You want a cut?”

She snorts, “Do I get half of Banner’s cut from the project?”

He shrugs, “We split the earnings 3 ways. I’m serious.”

”Fine. I’ll take it.”

She offers to shake Tony’s hand. Bruce gives her one more glance;

“Thanks, Natasha.”

She gives him a wink and makes her way to the exit. Bruce reopens his paper briefly as Stark leans an elbow over his shoulder;

“So! You gonna stick around?”

“For now,” he folds his paper and tucks it within his jacket pocket, currently hanging over the edge of a chair. 

Tony sighs, losing his comedic tone;

"Listen, in all seriousness, Natasha really likes a clever little awkward witty scientist, for his big heart, sarcasm, open ideas, hidden emotions, secretive independent nature, high standards, angry outbursts, and frankly, I like you for the same things!”

“Tony…”

“Shut up I’m not done; You are worth 5 times what your old man was or ever could’ve been- believe me, I can speak to neglect. Not so much the other stuff- but I get what it’s like having to raise yourself. Forget everyone who ever said you were worth nothing. Screw em! Dr. Bruce Banner? He's a genius. He's a hero. And he happens to be my best friend."

Banner looks up as he gives a smile. He’s slightly startled by the engineer’s sudden knowledge but he lets it go;

"Thanks, Tony."

Stark tugs the bottom of his AC/DC shirt, cracking his neck before returning to his model, "So, with that said, what are your goals for the project that just accepted? Your cut is currently about $50,000 for the past few projects...Use it wisely. Gonna send me a bank account or am I rubber banding cash?”

Bruce keeps his head down, fingers pressing into the back of his neck, “Geez. Well…”

Banner freezes, eyes widening at a possibility. Tony crosses his arms, “oh boy...I can’t tell if you just came up with the next million dollar idea or you’re about the puke all over the room.”

“No,’ he stands up straighter, ‘You know that empty room on my floor? The one you’re always complaining about not using?”

Tony waves his hand without thinking twice, "You want the whole floor? Take the whole floor Bruce. We’ll evict Nat if you want cause I’m down! Anything you want just tell me and you got it."

"We’re not evicting, Nat, I just need the back room. Can I-"

"It's yours."

"Tony, you're the best." He jumps up scooping his glasses into his pocket before he dashes for the door. Starks swings his feet as he hops onto the stool;

“Now wait a minute, what are we building?”

Bruce smirks, “Just a small private space…I’ll send over my thoughts- if that’s okay! It’ll be about $2,000? Taken from my cut.”

He shrugs, “Mmkay. Yeah sure.”

The doctor lifts a hand to his cheek, “So, feel free to donate the other $48,000 to Kravis Children’s.”

Tony scoffs, “You don't need groceries…?!”

“I don’t need a lot Tony.”

“You need to live.”

“Fine. Donate $47,800 then.”

“For real Bro.”

“Yeah...I’ll be back in a minute. Gotta measure a thought.”

Stark widens his eyes and shakes his head with a mumble under his breath.

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

  
  
  



	17. Tiny Dancer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team enjoys a peaceful movie night together. Bruce surprises Natasha with an elaborate gift.

Natasha is laying back on the edge of the sofa with her feet propped on Barton’s lap. Bruce is in a chair behind her head, open book in hand while Thor’s requested horror film plays in the common area. 

The team is learning Tony doesn’t handle jump scares quite as well as Pepper, laughing when he flings popcorn into his girlfriend’s lap. The woman stands with an icy focus to brush herself off. Tony whispers guiltily;

“Sorry Pep.”

Rogers shakes his head, occupying his own sofa on the side with a sketchbook in hand;

“You realize you keep ‘accidentally’ either knocking her in the face or spilling on her lap right?”

Clint chuckles evilly, receiving a kick in the side from Romanoff. Tony throws a handful of popcorn toward Steve’s face in retaliation. 

Thor opens his mouth and addresses the engineer, “Fire toward me! I am quite good at this game!”

Pepper widens her eyes over the scene, hesitant to settle back into her place, “Oh, my god.”

The demigod catches on in hand and nods toward Pepper, “Lady Potts! Catch!”

“No! No, Thor I don’t catch-!”

Tony leans over in her place and succeeds. 

Bruce mumbles from behind his book, “Natasha’s next.”

Romanoff laughs, refocusing a second before the popcorn flies over her head and into her mouth. Barton claps playfully;

”Amazing. So skillful.”

Natasha reaches her arm up and back toward Banner, “Okay; What are you reading back there?”

He swaps his books, hiding the inner paperback and hands her the outer one. She accepts and skims through the pages;

“Psychology huh?”

“Yep,” he lies, sharing his actual read with a nosey Barton. The archer squints to see the actual book Banner holds up, offering a smirk over the clear subject matter on outsmarting a spy.

Bruce quickly tucks away when Natasha lifts her head to look behind her. He shrugs. She looks back toward Clint who refocuses on the movie. 

Stark grumbles having witnessed the encounter from the floor;

“You two are tag-teaming I just haven’t figured out what for.”

Thor leans forward as he calls for Steve’s attention;

“Captain Rogers, I am interested to see the latest addition in your sketchbook.”

Steve raises a playful eyebrow, eager to reveal his sketch of the team’s current position in the common room. Pepper laughs first;

“Oh my gosh, he drew the popcorn falling onto my lap.”

Barton shakes his head, “I don’t look like that.”

Tony laughs, “What?! The resting bitch face? You kinda do.”

“You do,” Rogers adds without missing a beat. 

Natasha lifts a shoulder when Barton looks to her for reassurance. She cringes;

“You really do though.” 

Thor smiles, “I am quite pleased with my portrayal. Carry on.”

Tony glares, “Steve made your mouth bigger than your face.”

Natasha chuckles and reaches to hand the book back to her friend behind her;

“I am so glad I can have this laugh before my mission tomorrow. It looks like a doozy.”

Clint wrinkles his nose, “Where to?”

“Bahamas.”

Pepper snickers, “Oh hon, that’s not a mission, that’s a vacation. Take me with you.”

Bruce bites his cheek thoughtfully, “How long will you be gone.”

She shrugs casually, “Few days, why?”

“Just curious. What’s the assignment?”

Natasha pushes herself upright and rotates to face him;

“I can’t talk about the details but it’s a routine thing.”

“Fair enough.”

Tony mumbles from his pillow, “Why is everyone talking? This is seriously the best part! Nobody spoil it for Thor!”

Natasha smirks toward Banner before addressing the group;

“Don’t worry, she’s gonna end up sending the creature out into space.”

Thor can’t help but laugh over Romanoff’s blatant spoiler, “The poor creature. I was becoming fond of the alien.”

Steve lowers his sketch pad, “Are you- being sarcastic…?!”

Thor just smiles and refocuses on the screen with a large beer in hand. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Romanoff makes her way through the Tower’s entrance, exhaustion and frustration written over every feature. She’s subconsciously sighing as she makes her way toward her apartment and collapses onto her bed. 

After a week of our chaos, stubborn criminals and working without help, she is ready for a break. Her eyes flick toward her shower and she sighs heavily upon giving into her own suggestion. 

The hot water from her shower and steam filled apartment work to wash away her most recent ache. Looking in the mirror she checks a gash over her shoulder. 

Natasha quickly throws on a soft purple tank top with thinner straps and her black leggings. Her preferred ‘physician’ will know what to do. 

She steps purposely across the hall, runs a hand through her hair to ensure it’s presentable, and knocks on his door;

“Bruce?”

“Natasha, welcome back.”

She turns to see him further down the hallway;

“Hi Bruce.”

He smiles, looking put together in his dark red button down;

“I saw you pull up into the garage from the lab window. Was coming to check on you...how’d it go?”

Natasha rotates sideways to show off her gash, “Well…I’ve had worse.”

He releases a sigh, taking her not so subtle hint as he moves toward his apartment, “Let’s fix you up.” 

She gratefully steps into his space, content to be back at the tower. She analyzes every corner, table, and desk, satisfied over the lack of empty vials or stray weapons. 

He taps on the table and she leaps onto it without further urging. 

Bruce strokes his face while he scans for his medical bag;

“How’d it happen?”

“Just a dull blade. Must’ve been off my game.”

He moves to toss his equipment behind her and wash his hands in the nearby sink. 

She watches him replace his glasses, trying to give her injury a look. His voice is low;

“I wish you’d see a real doctor sometime. You’re shot and stabbed enough to merit health insurance. And contrary to what you might believe, I don’t know how to handle every injury.”

Natasha just smirks without a reply.

Banner’s finger brushes carefully over her soft skin, gently moving to clean out any impacted debris from her cut. He missed her citrus perfume more than he thought. 

She watches as he dabs an ointment and layers a small patch over her abrasion;

“Thanks Vrach Banner.”

“Yep. Don’t come back.”

He stands to clean up to the space, with his mind elsewhere. She swings her crossed ankles;

“So, what’d you do while I was away?”

Bruce pivots to face her, hands pressed on the table. He nods in a brief pause and rolls his tongue over his cheek;

“Got busy with a project.”

“What kind of project?” She pushes.

He offers a closed mouth smile. His brown eyes looking intently into her own;

“Are you busy?”

She shakes her head. He extends his hand to help Natasha from off the table. While she doesn’t need his aid, she accepts his offer. 

His hold is as gentle as she expected, his soft leading down the hall. Her eyebrows lower suspiciously;

“What are you up to?”

"Trouble." He smiles with his cheeks blushing a bright red. 

She brushes her hair behind her ear and calls him out, "You're blushing Dr. Banner."

Bruce pauses outside a closed door and releases her hand. He taps his lips with his fingers, eyes hesitant to look into hers;

“Okay. Miss Romanoff. I, um. Do you remember when I asked you, last week, if you could change anything in the tower what it would be?”

Natasha narrows her focus and reaches to take the key he extends in her direction. With a smirk over her face she lays her hand on the door knob;

“Why am I terrified…”

”You’re not scared of anything, remember?”

She can feel him shifting his weight, just watching from the side.

From the moment she opens the door, Natasha's at a loss for words. She slowly enters the room- a softly colored studio space with high ceilings and large windows. She takes a moment to circle, cautiously stepping inside.

Bruce enters behind her, waiting at the entry way with anticipation. The redhead seems to be taking in every detail. He watches her hand glide over the balance barre on the side, her eyes fall over the layered marley floor and wide mirrors. 

She moves toward the black baby grand off to the side with a vase on top. Natasha feels a small lump forming in her throat. She reaches to touch the fragile orange-yellow calla lilies.

Natasha gives him a glance, questioning his knowledge of her favorite flowers;

“How’d you know about the lilies?”

He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes almost playfully;

“Lucky guess.”

She tilts her head suspiciously, "Tell me."

He lifts a shoulder, “You have a photo of one up in your apartment.”

Natasha circles the room to ignore the tears forming in her eyes, "No one has ever done anything, quite like this for me."

He chuckles nervously, “Do you like it?”

She nods, “It's perfect."

With a fluid movement, she kicks off her shoes and steps out toward the center of the room and into a fourth position. She focuses her eyes and lands a clean triple pirouette into an attitude. 

She steps back, dropping her arms abruptly as her cheeks flush a bright red over the softness of his eyes and tender expression over his face;

"It's been a while.”

His arms are crossed over the piano, chin rested above his wrists;

“Looked fine to me.”

She hugs her sides nervously, "It's strange, dancing with no music."

“The guys and I put a stereo over in that corner. Barton insisted on investing in a louder base,’ Bruce taps his knuckle over the instrument, ‘And Tony can play. Says he’s pretty good- but he says that about a lot of things.”

“Just Tony?”

He raises an eyebrow over her indirect question he’s afraid to answer, “Well.”

Her head tilts, “Well?”

He tugs on his neck, "Jennifer learned. She showed me a few things back when we were young.”

She smiles, "Play for me?"

Bruce throws his head back with a laugh, “When I say young, I mean eleven years old.”

"It can't be as rusty as my fake ballet classes when you’re a genius with seven PhDs.”

He can’t disagree with her remark. The poor tortured assassin, forced to repress all emotions and past memories. 

She settles beside him as he takes a seat at the bench. His head stays low as he recalls more than he’s led her to believe. Banner’s soft brown eyes look back toward her with a gentle smile, his hands finding a C chord and roll up to an A minor.

Natasha sways lightly over connecting instantly with his selection. Her hum quickly changes to soft singing as she nudges his shoulder;

"Moon River, Wider Than a Mile, I'm Crossing You In Style, Someday..."

She stands to return back to the floor and points her toe. She arches her back in a graceful bend, still singing softly. She smiles, noticing his delicate brown eyes right back on her through the reflection in the mirror;

“Oh dream maker, You heartbreaker, Wherever you’re going, I’m going your way…”

Bruce smiles, completely lost in the moment as his eyes stay fixed on Natasha. Her short red hair tosses in response to her movement, her eyes lightly closed as she loses herself. She seems free; without pain and worry. As if she can be herself and let go for a moment. His eyes lower as she turns to look back at him. 

Natasha makes her way back to him, “What?”

Bruce shakes his head, holding it upright with his elbow over the side of the piano;

“You just look...free.”

She offers a hand, “Dance with me?”

He widens his eyes as he shakes his head, "I don't dance Miss Romanoff."

She shrugs her shoulders, "I'll teach you."

Bruce snickers, "No.”

Natasha nods, rolling her tongue over her lip as she bravely repeats a familiar phrase, "Then I’ll persuade you."

He huffs in a quick laugh, consenting to her request. He analyzes her hand;

“Alright. Teach me something.”

She gracefully adjusts his hands to her lower back and rests hers over his shoulders;

“Now, your hands are here because you’re supposed to lead.”

He keeps his head down, curly lock slipping over his forehead, "You’re close.”

Natasha rolls her eyes over his obvious comment and keeps a slow rock, barely shifting her weight as he presses his forehead against hers. Her heart skips a beat when he brushes her nose sending a tingling sensation pooling through her stomach. Natasha gives into his attempt at twirling her, she chuckles;

“We’ll have to work on turns.”

She gently rests her head on his chest as he softly urges her back into her previous position. 

His heart is pounding and he's trembling subtly as they pause. Bruce looks her over, reaching to brush her short red hair behind her ear. 

Natasha just smirks, her eyes displaying an extra amount of confidence as she asks softly;

“Are you ever going to kiss me again or was Morningside a one time thing?”

He bites his lip, unsure of how to respond when he whispers;

“Is that what you want me to do?”

She whispers back immediately, her hands slipping down over his chest to feel his heartbeat, “Maybe.”

He wants to debate his qualifications and she can see the hesitation in his stare. With a soft brush of his thumb over her cheek and his eyes shut tight, he leads her closer and latches onto her lips with his own. 

Natasha surrenders in his arms, content with his gentle act. She tugs back with her hands slipping up his shoulders and toward his curls. 


	18. Whenever You’re Ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team embarks on a new mission.

"Houston, we have a problem." Tony flashes his papers onto the table before parking himself next to Pepper.

Steve skims through the notes, "What happened Stark?"

"Fury called me. That’s what happened.”

Thor sits up straighter, his face expressing concern. Rogers looks up and waits for further explanation, "Okay, so what happened?"

"There's a new guy in town, creating some device with an extremely dangerous radioactive chemical that could potentially destroy all of New York City for starters."

Steve shrugs his shoulders, "Okay."

Tony crosses his arms sarcastically, "Okay?”

Rogers lifts his hand to his cheek, "We’ve handled worse.”

"Yeah well. Tell the rest of them to suit up. I'm gonna go recharge my stuff."

Thor shakes his head, “I am confused. Are you the new captain?”

Tony turns to face and points to Rogers, “No, he is. I’m just calling the shots because I got the memo. Make sense, Point Break?”

Pepper holds her head, "Really Tony…”

“Sorry Pep, I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

Thor raises a hand to greet Natasha as she enters; 

“Lady Romanoff, it has been far from a good morning. Our host has provided us with another problem concerning the realm in which we are currently residing."

Natasha presses forward and invites herself to the paper. Barton opens his mouth as he enters from the opposite side;

"What's up morons.”

Tony waves toward Bruce as the physicist steps beside Natasha;

“We’ve got some drama Brucie.”

Hawkeye lifts a paper, glancing over highlights, "Oh beautiful. Someone’s making radioactive weapons, in the middle of New York City.”

Natasha brushes her hand through her hair. Her voice stays soft as she takes a page from Cint to offer Bruce;

"Preevet Vrach Banner."

“Preevet Natasha.”

He raises a cautious eyebrow and slips on his glasses. Natasha bites her lip, "Are you up for this Vrach?”

“What’s my role? Transforming voluntarily to prevent a radioactive explosion?"

"Something like that."

"No, but thank you for asking."

She sighs, looking at her fingers. Natasha catches Banner's glasses as he fumbles through the papers. She checks the scratched lenses, moving to clean them with the edge of her shirt without asking first.

"Thanks Natasha,” he gives her a soft smile as she offers them back.

Tony coughs sarcastically, "So, we ready? Fury gave us an hour.”

Thor stands up, ready for action. Pepper glances at her watch, "I have a flight that leaves in two hours for Washington. Keep me in the loop. And don't do anything stupid."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

  
  


Fury gives that stern expression as he paces the room at headquarters, the same way he has since the team arrived. 

"Well, in short our new 'friend' has been creating a radiative chemical he plans to turn into a bomb that can destroy a complete city depending on how much of the matter is used. His 'bat cave' is located about half a mile from a train station, 4 miles from Grand Central Station. Your job is to disable the creation and collect the material."

Rogers widens his eyes, "You want us to steal it? What are you going to do with it?"

Natasha pounds her open palm into her head. Barton snickers, "Steve, chill out."

Tony crosses his arms, "Actually, I'm going to have to side with the Old Fossil on this one. What are you going to do with the materials, Fury? It’s a valid question.”

Nick crosses his arms, "Excuse me, do I go to your place and question what you do for work? Listen up. Dr. Aldon's minions aren't human-"

Clint chuckles, "What? We got little robots to chase down or something?"

The director narrows his focus, "He’s familiar with other worlds, which is where Thor comes in.”

Stark waves his hand, "Thinks he's a big shot cause he can boss us around."

Steve clenches his teeth, "Can you shut up and so we can hear the orders for once in your life?"

"Order?! I want a large fry.”

Fury slams his hands onto the table, "Listen up! You're going up against some of the most difficult weapons we've ever encountered. You need to follow instructions. Thor, you and Banner are going to have to find some way to ward off Aldon and his minions. Stark will shut down the system. Barton, Steve, and Romanoff need to patrol the streets and keep pedestrians from the weaponry."

"Easy enough. Can we go now?” Stark jumps up swinging his arms.

Nick raises his voice, "Stark! Please!”

Bruce speaks up from his quiet state, nervously twirling his tongue, "So, you don't need me, you just need the monster? For the record, this guy and I have a past, if that matters.”

Romanoff lowers her eyebrows suspiciously, “With you or your other half?”

”We’re not friends if that answers your question.”

She narrows her focus and bites at her inner cheeks, angered over the brazen doctors who have treated her friend like an experiment.

Fury moves his head in frustration, more so with Stark than anyone else as he addresses the doctor, "Which is why you all need to be extra careful. Don’t get caught. The hulk can help defend.”

Bruce keeps his head low, "I don’t- I don’t see how putting a problem in the middle of radioactive equipment helps us...I don’t trust hulk.”

Tony reaches to tap his shoulder;

“Buddy I hear you, I do, but he did great when you and I last released him.”

Banner shifts uncomfortably. Natasha drops her hand with narrowing eyes;

“What are you talking about?”

Steve raises his voice, “You released the hulk?! When!”

Tony brushes them off, “It was great! He listened fine! We had a great run.”

Banner leans his hands on the table, “Can we go back to Aldon?”

The room rattles with the loud shattering of a nearby window. Romanoff leaps into action and sets her stance in front of the team as she fires her pistol toward the uniformed intruder. 

Barton leaps forward to locate his arrows, the Captain to his shield and Tony for his suit. Fury dodges as Thor raises a hand to call his hammer. The director retorts abruptly;

“And we just ran out of time.”

Natasha glances behind her toward the doctor to ensure he has no interest in revealing his other half until absolutely necessary. She extends her hand as they share a glance;

“Come on Vrach.”

He accepts with a trusting sideways smirk as she leads the team forward, keeping Banner behind her to avoid a forced transformation until they make it out of the building. 

She gives him a nod, “You got this.”

He begrudgingly consents, “You might want to back up.” 

“You’re not going to hurt me.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

  
  


The Iron Man mumbles as he twirls in the air avoiding a second fire in his general direction, "Holy smokes! Why did I assume this guy only had guns!? Regular guns?!"

Barton holds his ear piece, swinging an enemy from off his back, "Funny, if you actually shut up in that meeting earlier you would’ve heard the words ‘radioactive weapons’.”

Thor takes his hammer into the air to elicit a storm on top of a group of fighters, "Patriotic Man, I can only do so much while standing on my own. Where is the doctor in his other bodily form?"

Natasha calls back, a raging hulk beside her. Though slightly unnerved, she trusts him, “We’re coming.”

Clint shakes his head and clutches his com, “Look at you two.”

Romanoff snaps, “How about you look where you’re shouting.”

Tony flies over the group as he adds his remark;

“I told you he listens! Clint, incoming!”

Barton snorts, "Yeah, tell me something I don't know!"

Steve interjects. “Okay I'm game! These aren't regular gunshots. Stark is flying over at least a 500+ pound machine firing at least 30 per second. His laser fires aren't doing a thing. I'm almost positive Aldon's got these things set up all around the city."

"That's enlightening. And how does that help my current situation Cap?"

"It will be a distraction. Let them fire at Hulk so he knows who the enemy is."

Natasha releases a Russian swear under her breath before responding, “Trust me, he’s going for the right target.”

Her eyes widen as she watches Hulk charge after and shred a metal firing beacon aimed for Natasha. She looks up toward his focus, “Thank you. Clint; how are we on pedestrians?”

Barton expresses a panic in his voice, "I'm going underground to get those people out of the subway."

"Okay. I've got you covered." She fires towards the attackers as he heads down the stairs to the bottom of a bustling city. 

Rogers addresses the team, “Any hits on finding the base?”

Tony retorts urgently, “And...I just found a bomb.”

Natasha pauses over a rumbling in the pavement. She focuses intently vibrations before calling her friend;

"Hey Clint, how many floors do you think are below your feet?"

"...You think this guy went underground with his junk?"

"Possibly. It’s like our mission in Beijing.”

"Good call Nat! Forgot about that. I'll check."

"I'm coming too."

Stark calls back, “What happened in Beijing?!”

Natasha yells, “Focus on your own bomb!”

Thor takes his stance and moves to charge his hammer toward the positioned weaponry. He grits his teeth and prepares for the worst until a free giant throws him from harm’s way without a second thought. 

Rogers catches up to his teammates and swings his shield toward a weapon. He dodges as it bounces off with no affect, groaning in defeat when clouds of smoke encircle the Hulk. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

  
"Romanoff?! Barton?!- Good God! Stark I lost them! I can't reach Fury!" Steve reflects a fire from his shield eyes wide, debris covering over his face.

The Iron Man lands in his suit, aiming his laser in a fit of anger, "Where's Banner?!?”

The noise intensifies, "Stark! Shut up! We've got to get these people off the street!"

“You do that. I'm going to take a flight and see if I find them. Answer me if I call you. If you don't I'm going to assume you're either dead or kidnapped and I am not coming after you!”

Thor runs forward to join the two-some. Steve points to provide direction, “We need to get these people out.”

“Where are the others?”

“Tony’s got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Drop a comment if you’d like.


	19. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mad doctor traps Bruce, Barton and Natasha.

His head aches with a heavy pounding, his ears still vaguely ringing in a high pitched squeal. The last time he's heard anything like that was on an open field. A familiar echo somehow able to shut the hulk down. 

His body feels sore no doubt from the most recent explosion. His wrists ache from odd metal restraints, his heels and ankles pushing bare foot against a cold table. Bruce whispers to himself, “Oh come on!”

His eyes burn the instant the lights turn on, a voice echoing off the walls of an uncomfortable room, "Welcome back Dr. Banner. Miss me?"

Bruce lays motionless as he recalls the voice of Aldon. His eyes crack open, “No, no I didn’t.”

The mad doctor paces, muscular and much older than Bruce remembered. 

“That’s a shame.” Aldon taunts as the restraints are released. Banner sits up in his oversized attire. He moves to tug his hands, rotating his sore wrist instead;

“What’d you use to knock out the hulk.”

“Oh the usual,’ he paces, ‘Vibranium, gamma, a sonic wave- nothing special. When did you join the enemy? What did SHIELD do to have you enroll?”

Bruce scoffs and rubs at his opposite wrist with his head down, “I didn’t. Care to explain what’s been injected into me to prevent a hulk-out?”

“Nothing yet.”

“Risky.”

“Not for me.”

Aldon just smiles and waves for Bruce to follow down the darker underground hallway. The physicist takes in his immediate surroundings, reaching for a nearby scalpel before following his enemy. He tucks it up his sleeve. Not quite a hiding spot Natasha would approve of but Banner has escaped far worse. 

Bruce listens half-heartedly as they walk, feet cold against the floor. His eyes scan and search for an exit with his mind eager to return above ground. 

“Obviously, I’m back in New York, fully prepared to accept responsibility for some of the most intricate weaponry you’ve ever seen.”

Bruce rugs in his sleeve, cautious over the odd experiments and armed guards;

“Something radioactive?”

Aldon chuckles disappointedly, “Ever the man of so many words. I might’ve been young at the time but even your father shared more of my enthusiasm for this project.”

“Among other things,” he mumbles. 

“I could have the world at my disposal here- which is what happens as long as you can force your enemies into submission. I am a genius, as you know. But I am missing one thing; someone who can help me better understand the nuclear aspects of my project.”

Bruce crosses his arms, careful with the blade under his sleeve;

“I still don’t know what your project is for. So you blow up the city; big deal. What’s next.”

Aldon pauses in his steps, sharp blue-eyed focus targeting the shorter man;

“You have two things that I want: Your brain, and your blood. With your mind I can bring SHIELD to an ultimate halt. I can crush the director who continues to step in and put a stop to my projects... if he’s not dead already…we have been down here a while.”

“And you’re still a psychopath.”

“With the hulk, I can create an army fit to outmatch any force.”

Bruce smirks nervously and shakes his head with a twitch, “You've tried that, and failed, multiple times.”

Aldon shakes his head, stepping beside the doctor to wrap an uncomfortable arm around his shoulder;

“The one thing I’ve never tried, is having you be the one to create all of it.”

Banner bites his cheek and huffs out a laugh, “That’s funny... I’m gonna have to pass. Not interested in creating monsters.”

Aldon nods, giving his guards a signal;

“I almost forgot that you are far more cooperative under pressure. Lucky for me these two walked right into my lab, can you believe it?!”

Bruce jumps unexpectedly over Barton and Romanoff tied and gagged. His stomach churns uncomfortably over the bruises and cuts on the two-some proving without a doubt they’ve put up a fight with their surrounding supervision. His cocoa stare meets her hazel-green as she tugs aggressively, still not ready to quit. Bruce moves almost instinctively in their direction, met with pistols aimed in each of their directions. 

“You go green and I shoot them,’ Aldon reaches out with an open palm, ‘I’ll take the scalpel back. That won’t be doing you any good.” 

Bruce consents by tossing his stolen weapon onto the ground. With gritted teeth he pleads, “Aldon, she’s hurt-...just let me help her.”

“Ah the redhead. She shot two of my best. Trust me, she’s fine.”

“Aldon! She’s bleeding…for god’s sake just let me look at her! I’ll do whatever you want.”

The doctor gives a cautious glance, nodding for his guards to allow Banner to get closer. 

Natasha resists the urge to pull as their eyes meet. Hers are full of rage, no doubt ready to act on her plan of escape. 

With an inch in between them he moves to rid her of her restraints with a skillful tug. She swings forward to wrap her legs around an incoming guard and take him down. Banner dodges an incoming punch while moving to aid Barton while Natasha frees her mouth. 

Clint grumbles, “Nice job in freeing her first doc; You earned some points.”

He pulls the ties to free the archer, “Sorry.”

Barton kicks his own enemy off of him, “Nah I actually meant it- heads up.”

The doctor moves from Clint’s way as he fights their attackers. He pants briefly, shaking his head as Bruce hesitantly throws a punch.

“Any chance of a larger green teammate helping us out…?”

“Well gee, thanks.”

Natasha makes a move for her weapons, flipping over a nearby table. She manages to steal a gun from an armed officer and in taking her aim, she selects Aldon as her next target. 

Romanoff pauses when she hears a shrill from behind her, her eyes softening instantly over Banner being easily pinned. A bullet toward her skull causes her to pause in her own shot. Her jaw clenches, caving for her attacker. Aldon chuckles and catches a hand in her hair to force her head upright. Natasha permits it, hoping to hold his focus long enough for Barton to figure out their next move. She instigates with a cold-hearted smirk;

“You sick bastard. I know about your past- I know what you did to him. I know how you tortured the hulk out of him over and over again. I don’t know what you did to stop the hulk this time but what I do know is exactly how you’re going to die; slowly, painfully. I will shred you apart, cell by cell. And when you’re bleeding I won't stop. When you lose your vision, I won’t stop. While you’re screaming out to whatever deity you believe in for some kind of mercy...you won’t receive it.”

Bruce groans from the ground and below one of Aldon’s minions, listening to a contained hulk raging in the back of his mind. With his focus on her safety he can only half-heartedly listen to her words. He’s shouting to catch her attention as he’s forced from off the floor;

“Natasha, stop! Please! You’re going to get hurt...”

Clint doubles over upon receiving a punch to the gut, trying to restrain his own noises as he swears under his breath. 

Aldon looks up once Banner screams his name, infuriated by his teammate’s abuse. His eyes widen;

“Aldon! I’ll do it! I’ll do whatever you want!”

Their enemy keeps his hold on Natasha’s bright red hair, two other guards working to keep her restrained while she yells back, “Bruce no-!”

Aldon tilts his head, “And how do I know you’re not pulling another escape attempt?”

“I can’t go green- you know that. Whatever you did, it’s working.”

The older man snaps for his attendants, “Shoot him let’s see what happens.”

Natasha tugs in an attempt to free her hands, “You son of a bitch!”

Banner snaps with his attention purely focused on her as an additional guard stepping in to hold him steady;

“Natasha- it’s okay.”

Barton mumbles an inaudible remark as he plots, calculating his next move. 

Romanoff retorts with a glassy eyed stare, “You’ll shoot him over my dead body!”

“Natasha!”

Clint glances upward and forces his weight up and back to break the hold over him. 

Romanoff tries to make her move, caught off guard when she’s thrown into the solid ground head first. 

Her eyes go vague over the impact. Her hands underneath her a second too late. In the haze she can hear screams and her name being shouted. 

“Bruce…?” She whispers over the echo of a familiar green roar before her arms give out and her mind goes blank.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	20. An Absence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys work to finish the fight without Natasha and Clint.

“Birdman! How glad I am to find you!”

Clint fires his newly located arrows underground, aiding the Hulk in destroying any and all. He mumbles in agitation;

“Took you long enough! Nat’s unconscious and I need to get her out of here. Can you cover me?!”

The demigod steps in to take his swings opposite Hulk, allowing the archer to scoop their injured warrior and make his way out. 

The demigod aims a lightning bolt, assisting in the destruction that has quickly moved back onto the streets of New York. Thor finds the 'beast' intriguing when he tears apart a massive weapon as if it were second nature, taking it as a sign to assist him in the demolition.

Bystanders head for higher ground, yelling and screaming at the vision in front of them. It isn't long before Aldon tries to run. Spotted with a roar, hulk charges full force toward the doctor without warning. 

Thor maintains his stance as Stark lands beside him, “We need to find that chemical and end this now!”

Rogers calls over his com, “Nat’s down! Barton is taking her to Fury for medical.”

Tony shakes his head and fires his missiles to cause the last of the weaponry to implode upon itself;

“Well that’s just great. What’s the good news?”

“Are we in any way closer to locating this radioactive weapon? Underground?”

Barton’s voice comes in broken and much softer, “Not for nothing guys, but hulk squashed about everything that was in that hideout. There’s nothing but dust left.”

The Iron Man pulls back his helmet to glare directly toward Thor, “Where’s Banner?”

. . . . . . . . . . 

The Hulk takes larger steps toward a cowering Aldon. Left with nothing but a lab coat he pleads with the green giant for mercy. 

When the Hulk looks at Aldon, all he sees is a monster. Someone who has hurt his other half as well as one of his closest friends. He can see her laying on the ground in his mind, towering over her fragile frame as his large green finger brushes her hair, searching for a breath or any sign of life from the black widow. 

His function is to protect. To eliminate the threat. With a large raising fist and a snarl shows his enemy no mercy. 

Stark lands nearby, unable to observe for too long as the hulk snaps the neck of his victim. He speaks up softly to bring his friend back after giving him a moment to breathe;

“Hey, Buddy. Fight’s over. You’re good…”

He snarls, still very much invested in revenge. 

Rogers charges behind in the dust and quickly spots the two-some;

“Come on guys. We’re good. Natasha needs us.”

The Hulk’s eyes soften over hearing her name, causing Steve and Tony to freeze momentarily. He releases a somber whimper, vague expression over a typical angry scowl.

Thor moves toward the overworked Hulk and his fellow teammates, “We won. Good work gentlemen.”

The green gradually subsides from their larger friend, rapidly shrinking down to his human frame. Tony runs forward to catch his disoriented friend first, met by Steve next and Thor last. Banner’s eyes are slow to open. Tony moves to support him on his feet, soft in his tone;

“You good there buddy?”

He searches frantically, clouded mind elsewhere;

“Where’s Natasha?”

.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Banner walks briskly toward the emergency unit within headquarters, eager to see the redhead through the clear window. He stands frozen beside a motionless Barton in Tony’s borrowed pants and quarter-sleeved top. 

Clint mumbles upon his arrival, “They’re checking her over. Running an MRI again. She’s got some fractures but she started breathing on her own so…”

Bruce refuses to answer, swallowing hard as he stares blankly. He shakes his head with the twisting of his jaw. He’s reliving a nightmare: someone he loves suffering because of him. 

Clint taps his shoulder, “I’ll be right back.”

Bruce bites the inside of his lip, suddenly taken by emotion as his chest collapses and his heart aches. His pulse picks up slightly as a lump forms in his throat over seeing Natasha in her fragile position. That wasn’t Romanoff. She was agile and strong. Vibrant not colorless. 

His eyes shut tight as he pivots to punch a nearby wall. His fist moves to hit twice in rapid succession, head low as his breathing falters. Moving a hand over his forehead he gives into a scream. His head falls into the wall, hands pressed on the corner. For the first time in a while her safety is out of his control. She is beyond a few sutures and too far for a comforting smirk or touch he’s come to know and miss.

Banner shuts his eyes tighter until the stars start to form and his mind is dizzy. He’s whispering subconsciously as Barton bravely moves close enough to listen but far enough to watch without being seen. His heart breaks as Banner’s voice cracks;

“Please don’t leave me...please be okay…”


	21. Where Is My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha’s agitation and paranoia get the best of her.

A day in urgent care, 3 days stuck in the headquarter’s hospital and not one hero mentioned leaving. Bruce refuses to leave her bedside with Barton popping in every two hours. Tony and Steve rotate, each one coming every other hour while Thor comes and goes throughout the day to ensure his team are all eating, drinking and resting. 

Pepper’s visits are short once she returns to New York. Spending an hour sitting quietly with Bruce and Tony or briefly discussing a job with Stark. 

Banner’s darker eyes are enough to worry the engineer who tosses a book in his direction or some other project only to have it sit on the bedside table.

The doctor gives a quick hopeful glance on the 4th day, when he hears her draw a deeper breath. Alone in the room, he tugs at his curls and observes hopefully as Natasha's thick lashes open with a fluttering motion.

Additional color in her cheeks tells him she's more alert than she has been since the accident. He leans forward, his voice soft and hopeful, "Natasha?"

She arches slightly as she draws another breath.

Already on his feet, his hands instantly slide under her neck to ease her back down. When her eyes finally open and remain open, her body jumps. 

A look of confusion spread over her face over her caretaker, "Dr. Banner?"

He smiles, removing his hand from under her neck, "Natasha. You're alright."

She appears emotionless, silently pushing her hands into her bed to sit up straighter.

"You had me worried."

Her eyes circle the room, "...why?”

Bruce shoves a hand into his pants pocket, "Well, you’ve been unconscious for three days-.”

"Okay."

"Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

Natasha's somewhat short with him as she shuts her eyes and lifts a hand over her forehead;

"I'm fine."

Bruce bites his cheek twirling his tongue. He’s searching for the hulk’s memories eventually concluding that she must blame him for her hurt. 

He nods and moves toward the door to address the team with a nervous smirk;

“Romanoff’s awake. Little nippy, but to be expected I guess.”

The group quickly stands up to visit their friend who is less than thrilled to have all eyes on her. After permitting a fuss for a brief moment, tolerating Fury and Barton the most, she swings her foot over the edge of her bed and brazenly removes her own IV;

"I'm really fine. Can we go now?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She rolls over onto her side as she grips the pillow underneath her aching head. The throbbing is intense, especially when she hears light tapping on the door. Her voice is unintentionally rough as she tells her visitor to 'come in'.

Natasha lifts her head up from the sofa to spot the physicist. She falls back onto her pillow and rubs over her eyes.

Bruce offers her a gentle smile as he enters her apartment and slips a drink onto her table. Her mind is vague, suspicious over his consistent visits and check ins;

“I brought you a coffee.”

Natasha forced herself upright, tucking her mouth into her hand. She’s too tired to filter, “I’m not really in the mood.”

He nods in the silence, biting his lip, “...Okay.”

She drops her hands, watching him tug at his own, "Can I ask you a question?"

“Yes.”

Natasha releases an exasperated sigh, “Alright, first of all, stop doing that with your hands. Why do you keep...coming in here?"

He thrusts his hands into his pocket after being startled by her tone, "I'm sorry, I just want to make sure you were okay. I can go…”

She exhales slowly, her eyes low while she holds her head, "There's nothing wrong with me, I'm fine. All I want is a little space, so, not to be rude or anything, but please. Stop. Doing things for me. Don't check on me, I’m really okay... please."

His eyebrows raise over her tone, eyes falling downward while he makes his way for the door;

"Feel better Natasha.” 

Her eyes close as she corrects him, unable to control her response, “Romanoff works too.” 

He leaves her room with a brief wave back.   
  


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Tony quickly tucks his glass full of whiskey behind his back to hide it from Banner. The engineer imagines he’d give some lecture about it concerning the time. 

He stands to the side watching Bruce take slow steps into the hallway with his fingers over his temples. 

Stark catches his forearm stopping him in his tracks. "Hey Bruce, talk to me what's wrong?"

His friend shuts his eyes taking a deep breath inward. He forces a smile and drops his hands, eager to run, “Nothing. I'm just tired."

Tony presses the issue circling around to look him in the eye, "Why don’t we head down to the batcave- previously known as 'the lab'."

Banner retorts with a sigh, "Tony, please. I'm completely burnt out. I haven't slept all week."

He keeps his eyes closed, gently tugging to break free from Stark's hold, "Please.”

Stark keeps his eyes focused, tempted to physically drag him into the lab. He decides against it and slowly releases his hold;

"Alright buddy…you call me if you need anything.”

  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Nat, it's been two days and you've been...strangely yourself." 

Clint crosses his arms staring at her as she polishes her pistol. She sits crossed legged over his bed with her eyes narrow;

"You want to elaborate on that?"

He nods pointedly, "You’re clinging to your pistols like they're your life-line.”

“I always sleep with one under the pillow.”

He scoffs, “Last night you insisted on locking your door. You’re not talking to anyone but me. Not even the doc. So what’s going on?”

She glances up at him sarcastically with a snicker, "Ha! You're mad."

"I'm not mad, I'm just confused. You were actually happy before the mission and now you're back in some dark -."

Natasha quickly retorts, "I'm happy, why?"

"No you're not. You were happier when you were doing whatever you were doing with the doc.”

She freezes in her polishing, her focus low, “He scares me Clint. Honestly.”

Barton lowers his eyebrows, “What are you, talking about? You weren’t afraid of Hulk before the mission. Are you that rattled over Aldon?! For real…?!”

She looks up at him briefly with a sense of confusion. Clint turns his head slightly;

“Okay, you must’ve hit your head harder than we thought...what’s the last thing you remember?”

Natasha lifts her shoulder, “The hulk, rampaging New York.”

Barton nods, content with her answer, “Alright, okay. Do you know where you are? Right now?”

She slams her fist into the mattress, already frustrated with the interrogating, "Why do you keep asking me these stupid questions? I'm fine! There's nothing wrong with me.”

Natasha stands and shoves her weapon into it’s holster. Clint lowers his eyebrows;

“I’m just asking Nat. The doctors said you had a bit of a concussion. I just want to make sure you’re actually okay and not just trying to shut me up.”

She’s tired of the sympathy, “I’m really fine. Please stop.”

He shakes his head, “Okay! Where are you going?”

“Why? Would you like my itinerary for the day?” Romanoff glares over her shoulder and slams the door behind her.

Clint just brushes a hand over his face and sits thoughtfully on his bed. 

. . . . . . . . . . . 


	22. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha’s amnesia has started to take over

Barton sits back in his chair addressing his two friends at the table, "She's making sense, but it's like the 'old Nat'. Not the one that...smiles.”

Tony snorts. Rogers shrugs. Seated around the gym, Thor is attempting to focus on his bench pressing;

“I would like the weight to increase.”

Steve complies by adding another thirty. Clint’s jaw drops out of frustration for the lack of response to his complaints;

“...you guys seriously don’t care.”

Tony moves toward his treadmill and rests his water on the edge,

“Sorry Robin Hood. Your friend is usually pissed off. I don’t see the issue, sorry.”

“I have mail,” Pepper carries a small stack into the gym and tosses the envelopes onto the table.

Tony mumbles as he begins his run, “Anything for me can go in the shredder.” 

Rogers makes his way over to the stack and lifts the first few, “For Stark, Stark, more Stark...for Natalie and Bruce.”

Tony lifts his head mid run, “Huh. They have fans now.”

“From Russia.”

“That’s pricey postage.”

“It’s not- but okay.”

Clint stands to take the envelope from Steve, “It’s that little kid Nat connected with at the hospital.”

“What kid?’” Natasha lingers in the door frame with a questioning glance. She seems calm aside from her hand held comfortably over her pistol. Her eyes are wide, her lips secure in their straight line. 

Clint lifts the envelope, “From Russia. That kid from the hospital.”

Natasha reaches to take it from him, ripping it open. Her eyes scan over the Russian text. She refolds it quickly, far more concerned over why her name was being mentioned among the crew. Her eyes shift to avoid looking at Barton directly;

“Did you hear from Fury about the mission wrap up?”

“I handled it.”

“Oh,” she sounds disappointed. 

Clint crosses his arms, “Why do you ask?”

She shrugs and mumbles above a whisper, “Nothing. Nevermind. I was gonna go to the shooting range for a bit. Anyone want to come?”

”Did you read your letter.”

”I’ll read it later. Coming?”

Barton nods, unsure if he wants to leave her alone, “I’ll come. Steve?”

“Not today ma’am but thank you.”

Stark waves from his treadmill, “Hard pass.”

Pepper smiles, quietly reading her digital emails in the corner, “Next time!”

Thor drops his weight, “I am interested!”

Natasha provides a sarcastic smile with an eyebrow raise, “Great. Let’s go before it gets too late.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Romanoff tugs the back of her neck and rolls her head around from right to left. Her fingerless gloves rub against her raw skin and recent injuries from the latest battle. 

Clint walks beside her as they pace the floor with Thor following behind them. Barton rolls his shoulder as they turn the corner. Natasha points;

“This is my stop.”

Thor gives his teammate a friendly nod, “I bid you a good evening.”

She smirks and moves to unlock her door, “You too.”

Clint reaches to give her shoulder a squeeze, “Night, Nat.”

“Night.”

She waits as the boys press on, her eyes falling on a light pouring out into the hall. Natasha lowers her head and makes her way toward the door that’s cracked open just enough. 

The redhead peers through, her hand on the doorknob after giving a knock;

“Can I come in?”

The doctor looks up from his book. Bruce is sitting on the ground, near enough to the table lamp with his glasses on;

“Can I help you?”

She lingers, “I just- saw the light on.”

He looks up hopefully, biting the side of his eye glass frames;

“How are you feeling?”

Natasha tilts her head and answers abruptly. She rugs off her archery gloves and shoved them into her back pocket, “I’m fine.”

She doesn’t invite herself in the way she usually does. She’s standing at a distance as if she’s afraid to get close. Banner feels his heart crushing inside of him the second she opens her mouth once again;

“You’re a Doctor, right?”

His head turns, slightly taken back. She knows this;

“Well...not medical.” 

Her jaw shifts. She swallows hard with her eyes vacant. She looks pale. He sighs, moving to stand;

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Natasha presses her back against the door. He pauses as he spots her hand settling over her holster. Banner lifts his hands as if to convey the promise of not getting any closer. 

Her molars clench with a frustrating eye roll, “What happened. On the mission.”

“You don’t remember?”

She stays frozen. There’s distrust and fear in her stare. 

“I don’t know why I’m asking you. I’m caving because it feels familiar.”

He nods and forces himself to stop tugging at his fingers to give her full attention;

“...what’s the last thing you remember.”

Natasha shakes her head, her eyes roving over his apartment;

“Not this.”

“...do you know who you are?”

If looks could kill he would be stabbed one hundred times over. He takes her silence as a signal to move onto the next question;

“Does your head hurt?”

“Why is it pounding.”

Banner forces his cold reply, not wanting to relive the memory;

“You um. You fell, and. You hit your head during the mission. You had a concussion- Can I look-.”

“How.”

“How what.”

“How did I fall.”

He rolls his tongue over his inner cheek and lowers his focus, “The guy we were after- he just um. He threw you down. Wasn’t pretty.”

She accepts his answer, careful not to move from her position;

“Was anyone else hurt?”

He softens his focus and shakes his head. Even in her current predicament she’s looking after the team, “No. Everyone else is okay…”

Natasha offers a nod. Bruce swallows a lump forming within his throat over the recollection, “I’m sorry, Natasha.”

She scoffs, “Why.”

He lifts a shoulder, “I knew the guy we were after. I just. It’s my fault. And I’m sorry for what happened.”

Natasha narrows her focus, “Everyone has a past.”

“I should’ve intervened sooner or done something to get in between-.”

“It’s fine, I’m sure we all had reasons at the moment for doing what we did,’ she cuts him off abruptly and turns her head toward the door, ‘I should go. It’s late.”

“If you need anything-.”

“Well you’re not medical.”

“No but-.”

“It’s fine. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“I’d like to help if you’d let me.”

“I don’t want your help.”

He scoffs, “Since when?”

She glances sideways, suddenly angry over her lack of recollection, “Since always. I can handle myself.”

He lifts a shoulder with a forced laugh, “Okay, awesome. Good luck doing your own stitches.”

”You act like you’ve given me sutures...”

Banner’s eyes widen sarcastically, “Many times. You enjoy harassing me with blood and injuries.”

”It’s a little unsafe don’t you think? Unless you want me to get second hand care. Why would you do that if that’s not what you’re trained in.”

He gives up, “Okay. Alright. I’m sorry...You’re right, I’m wrong. I was just making a point that we...might’ve...gotten along a little better before the accident and I’m sorry I hurt you. I hope, one day, you’re able to forgive me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

She briefly makes eye contact with his pained stare. He has a confession. His mind is racing. And she doesn’t want to get involved;

“Goodnight Dr. Banner.”

He bites his lip, unable to respond before she is already gone. His hands drop at his sides, jaw twisting over the book left out on the coffee table. This isn’t his first encounter with head trauma, suddenly stuck with the PTSD of his mother’s forced collision with the concrete. He’s afraid to blink as he recalls her screams, overlapping with Natasha’s gasps as he recalls her accident. 

Bruce reaches for the lamp switch and shuts his light with a heavy exhale. 


	23. Before You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Natasha no closer to recovery, tensions rise at the Tower

Barton’s quiver is over his shoulder as he returns to the tower. Rogers is quick to catch up with the archer, whispering despite no one else being around;

“We need to talk.”

Clint moves for the elevator, exhausted from his most recent mission. He slams on the button for his desired floor;

“So talk.”

“I think you’re right about Agent Romanoff.”

Steve widens his eyes, “It’s been intense around here. She’s not exactly pleasant.”

“Mmkay.”

“She confessed to Dr. Banner that she doesn’t remember anything.” 

Clint nods, “Makes sense…is he working on a cure?”

The Captain huffs, “Well- I don’t know.”

Clint releases a heavy exhale upon reaching his floor. He throws his quiver from inside the elevator and moves to hit another number immediately. Steve cringes, stepping out toward the initial location to check on a startled cleaner;

“Sorry ma’am, you alright?”

“Sorry,” Clint waves and encases himself alone as he heads for the lab.  
  


. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

  
Natasha keeps her cell over her shoulder while she skims through her notebooks, taking down each one at a time to recall past assignments. With Nick Fury on the opposite end, she’s more inclined to discuss her current issues;

“You know I could’ve handled that assignment better then Barton.” 

_‘I also know you haven’t been on your A game. Don’t sue me for being cautious.’_

“You act like I forget how to be who I was programmed to be...unfortunately, I remember all of that.”

_‘Are the notes helping? How’s Tower Life?’_

She switches the device to her opposite cheek and shoulder.

“Not really. I’m reading about this crime lord and it makes sense I just couldn’t tell you what he looked like,’ she tucks an arm over her rib cage, feeling defeated as she continues, ‘The boys all know what’s going on at this point because Banner told Tony and we all know how well Stark can keep a secret…It’s the sympathy stares that are pissing me off. I need to get back out on the field.”

She waits through a brief pause. His voice comes back softly;

_‘There’s a project Agent Hill is heading up over in Virginia-.’_

“Sign me up.”

_‘I’ll send you the details. And Romanoff?’_

“Hmm?”

_‘Be patient. Give yourself time.’_

Natasha smirks on her end, turning her notebook to the next page, “Easier said than done.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Hey genius and dumbass, what’s the plan for fixing Nat?”

Tony lifts a finger as Clint makes his entrance into the lab loud and clear. Bruce carries his sample from behind Stark and gives a shrug. 

The engineer points, “First of all, thank you for calling me a genius. That’s the nicest compliment you’ve ever given me.”

Banner interjects to avoid the banter;

“She’s got some type of amnesia, Clint. I don’t know if it’s permanent or not but there’s nothing I can do to help with that.”

Barton settles into a nearby chair with no intention of leaving anytime soon;

“Okay fine, I’ll bite. What would a doctor do?”

Bruce sighs and shakes his head with a focus on his current project;

“Psychotherapy. Hypnosis. Show her photographs, anything she used to have a connection with. Familiar sounds, places, people and things.”

Clint pouts, “Okay. Has she been back up at your place? Any new books to bond over or some shit.”

“I have no idea.”

“Have you tried it?”

Banner stands upright after realizing his attempt at analyzing a current component holds no purpose as long as there is a current distraction;

“Natasha does not want my help, so I will not be giving her my help.”

The archer shrugs, “So we just wait…”

“Most of the time, these things fix themselves.”

“It’s been a week and a half.”

“Takes longer than that.”

Tony circles forward defensively, “How about you stop harassing my employee during work hours.”

Clint stands after pounding his fist into the table, “Is this just a big joke to you?! I’m sorry, I thought she mattered.”

The physicist quietly grits his teeth and hides behind his project and glasses, careful not to change expression. Tony steps closer;

“You’re out of line Birdie.”

“No-!”

“I get you’re upset, we’re all upset over what happened. We don’t go in planning to have one of our teammates taken down. But it was an unexpected accident.”

“I get that-! But I expect a little more help from the people that can provide it! I don’t think that’s an obscure ask!”

Banner raises his voice with an agitated grin, “I can’t do anything! I can’t fix her! I’ve been up every night this week researching brain damage. I can tell you everything about memories and everything about temporary amnesia! I can’t force her to get help! There’s no magical chemical compound I can create that would suddenly make memories come back-! I can’t! If it were even remotely possible, don’t you think I would?!”

Barton crosses his arms and glances between his teammates. Tony just lifts a shoulder with a sympathetic expression;

“I second that.”

Clint stays frozen in place, disappointed with the answers he’s received;

“Okay. I mean Doc, you clearly have some ideas. To jog a memory. I feel like if roles were reversed she’d be banging down your door trying to help.”

Bruce just shakes his head and moves to swipe his screen;

“Again; she doesn’t want my help and I don’t blame her. She’s in this situation because of me. I’ll only make it worse.”

“Nat still wouldn’t just quit,” Barton nods and abruptly takes his leave. 

Stark contorts his mouth and leans his elbows over the workstation;

“You don’t actually blame yourself right?”

He paused briefly, “You weren’t there.”

“It was a psycho murderer, Bruce. Not you.”

“Can we get back to the project?”

Tony makes brief eye contact with the pained scientist. Banner’s walls are slipping no matter how hard he tries to keep them up. His eyes are glossing over rapidly with a tinge of green starting to trace his neck.

Stark consents and begrudgingly lets it go;

“Okay.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Natasha lingers in the common room in the dark, refusing to shift her position as she analyzes her letters, notes and images. She lifts her holographic tablet to swipe through mission records. 

Her eyes flick up upon an entry through the front door. With a hand on her weapon she remains ready to attack the intruder. 

She settles upon seeing the doctor in his jacket. Natasha hesitates to return to her work without greeting him and she does so with a mumble;

“Hi.”

Banner pauses once he spots her, rubbing his hands together from the cold air. 

“Hi,’ he tests her interest in conversation, ‘You’re up late.” 

Natasha looks up with a dejected expression, tucking a hand behind her head to hold it upright;

“So are you.”

He takes one step closer and freezes, “What are you reading?”

She lifts a shoulder with her voice staying soft, “Mission files, notes.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. I can’t even picture a face,” she scoffs.

“Don’t get frustrated-.”

“That’s so easy for everyone else to say. Meanwhile I’m...being undone, again. This isn’t the first time I’ve had my mind messed with. I just. I don’t know which version of the monster I’m supposed to be when I...don’t know who I am.”

He’s aware, thoughts shifting to the stories and files she’s shared.

“You’re the furthest thing from a monster.”

She scoffs, “We were trained to exploit and murder without blinking.”

“A monster doesn’t feel regret.”

Her head tilts over his voice. She smiles subtly.

“Why do you talk to me like that,’ she watches his eyes shift, his weight transfer and a nervous twitch, ‘You’re softer with me.”

His head lowers, “I don’t know what you mean- I’m not trying to be if it, bothers you.”

“You care what I think,’ she leans back in her chair and nods for him to take the one beside her, ‘I’m a spy, I pick up on the little things.”

He bites at his cheek and takes a seat at the table. He tucks his hands into his jacket pockets while she analyzes his every move. 

She lowers her focus briefly, “When I’m around you I feel, some kind of trust. So what were we?”

Bruce shrugs honestly, “I don’t know. I did- I do, trust you. I like to think you felt the same, considering you entrusted me with your medical care despite many refusals.”

Natasha lets the corner of her mouth flick upward briefly before she shifts;

“So, friends?”

He can’t help but release a chuckle, “Do friends make out in the parks these days? Am I that old?”

Romanoff nods, a soft pink covering over her cheeks. She taps her fingers on the table in the awkward silence. He leans forward when she slides the envelope from Izabella Mikhailov in his direction. Bruce unfolds the letter and gives her a look;

“So. Even if I had my glasses, I don’t read Russian.”

Natasha leans forward with an inhale and tucks a hand under her face, “It’s addressed to the both of us. She wanted to let us know she was safe. Apparently I wrote to her and said that, ‘Vrach Banner and I were interested in keeping in touch’…Anyways. She’s doing well. Started school. And says that she will write again soon.”

He looks over the letter, a clean handwriting for a six year old. Her sketch at the bottom makes him smile;

“She made your hair an excessively vibrant red.”

Natasha crosses her arms, “Your eyes are brown, not blue.”

She pulls at her inner cheeks and crosses her leg nervously when his eyes try to meet hers. 

“Bruce I-.”

“Natasha.”

They share a laugh over cutting each other off.

She scratches her head, “Sorry, you go.”

Bruce nods and zips his lip. She tilts her head;

“Okay. Bruce I- You obviously care a lot about others. And you’re kind and open. But I just...I just don’t trust myself. I don’t know why I would’ve let my guard down with anyone if it wasn’t to exploit them in some way. And I don’t want to hurt you.”

He nods and offers a smile. With his folded hands over the table his voice stays soft;

“I understand that. More than you know.”

Her eyes soften as she shares her genuine expression;

“I wish I could remember. I just don’t. There’s some kind of energy between us but I just...I need to figure out who I am. I hope you can forgive me.”

“For what? You never hurt me Natasha.”

She releases a nervous chuckle, “I hope this doesn’t make our team dynamic awkward.”

He stares somewhat distantly at a lower angle, “No I uh, I mean don’t plan on staying. I have a flight tomorrow. I let Tony know earlier this afternoon.”

“And how did he take that.”

“He didn’t,” Bruce laughs.

Natasha bites her inner lip, finger subconsciously tracing her book;

“And where will you go?”

He stops himself from answering immediately, uninterested in sharing his intentions;

“Somewhere remote and unreachable.”

“Back to Calcutta?” She asks pointedly.

He just grins. She drops her head and rotates her ankle. Bruce takes a breath as he stands;

“Well. It’s getting late, I should leave you to your documents.”

She looks up in his direction. The scent of his cologne stirs an emotion and she’s not sure why. His softer features seem to draw her in. 

“Good luck, Bruce,” she offers sincerely. 

He nods, “If you ever decide to go the psychology route, I’ll leave some names with Barton. Found a couple that have handled amnesia before.”

She smirks. He’s still looking out for her though she’s asked him not to, “Thank you.” 

He lingers, tapping the chair before turning to make his way back up to his temporary quarters. 

Natasha holds her focus as he moves to disappear from view, an odd twisting in her gut over the thought of never seeing him again. She lowers her head and reaches to reread Izabella’s letter.

  
  
  
  



	24. Russia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce finds himself in Russia while Natasha and the team look for ways to move on.

All Bruce wants is to lay down for a few minutes, take a breather, and go back to 'work'. 

After three weeks in Russia he was already starting to miss the tower and much to his dismay, a certain redhead. Perhaps Russia was a mistake. 

After 4 more days of diligent dedication and research, he has emailed Stark and Barton with a burner device over 18 times with recommended ideas and procedures related to resolving amnesia. 

He’s too quick for a reply and moves on before he can even risk being traced. 

He tosses his jacket, now back in his small shack of an apartment. The bed is small and somewhat uncomfortable but a space of solace after working with a local chemist for half the day. 

It was far less meaningful work then Culcatta or New York combined. His jaw tightens as he shuts his eyes on the cot, knees pulled tightly into his chest. 

Banner can come up with eighteen ways for Natasha to get help- if she hasn’t already- but he finds it difficult not to distract himself from his current state of hopelessness. With the hulk roaring in the back of his mind, he knows rest will be impossible. He can’t hold back a sigh and a growl, standing back up to dig through the small bag of his belongings. 

He freezes as his hands trace over a familiar Vibranium bullet. Lifting the cool silver metal in his hands, he focuses on the negative. The science of its intended use was yet to be tested, but if it worked, the pain would be gone. 

In his head he hears their screams. The cries of Betty Ross, his mother, and countless other innocent victims. His eyes shift and his chest collapses over a thought of Natasha hitting the ground.

It could have been worse. It could have ended her life entirely. It wasn’t worth it. He holds the item within his fist and continues to search through his bag for an analysis on his project. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   
  


Natasha holds her tablet in hand while Steve rattles off Fury’s latest notes on their recent battle. She swipes her screen and types quickly. With an eyebrow raise she releases a chuckle. The focus in her eyes is absent when she retorts;

“Too bad we didn’t have a hulk.”

Tony glares from his position, seated on the common room sofa as the two-some make their way through. Natasha lowers her head as soon as the remark leaves her mouth and bites her lip;

“Anything else Cap?”

Rogers shrugs, “No, that was it. Guess we’re done for the day.”

Clint flicks his arrow, laying in the ground while Thor stands in the nearby kitchen baking with Pepper. 

Romanoff refocuses on Stark and makes her way over to the finicky home owner. She leans over the edge;

“Are we still sulking?”

Tony shifts to see her better, “Are you kidding me? Yes. Yes we are. Do you realize, you’re the reason he left?! Or are you still in denial.”

She shakes her head dismissively, “He was always going to be here temporarily-.”

“He had a great job with me. He had a roof. I’m pretty sure he’s using burner phones right now cause I get incoming but the second I respond it’s a dead signal.”

Clint looks up with knowing eye contact, “Oh you too huh?”

She sighs, “He’s used to being on the run, he’ll be fine. SHIELD still has to be tracking him.”

Stark shakes his head, “They're not. I asked.”

“They wouldn’t tell you, no offense. What was his latest message? I can probably pin a location.”

Tony hides his device quickly, “Nothing.”

The demigod comes charging into the room, eager to present his plate;

“Behold! I have baked a cherry crumb pie!”

Tony snaps aggressively, “Shove it up your ass.”

Steve cringes, looking to keep the peace, “I’m, interested, Thor.”

Pepper steps forward with a heavy sigh, “Tony, you’re being obnoxious.”

“Am I?’ He stands up to address the team, irritated by their lack of support, ‘Well I’m sorry, but I thought having this team meant something. That we would be there for eachother no matter what. I don’t know about anyone else, but last time I counted we were down two valuable members and I don’t plan on being less ‘obnoxious’ until I figure out where he is. I’d like to know he’s okay.”

Natasha shrugs, “I offered.”

Tony points, “You! Can stay out of this.”

The team freeze with Barton moving to chase after the engineer;

“I’ll talk to him.”

Pepper crosses her arms and gives Natasha a look. Romanoff just lowers her head and moves to keep swiping on her tablet. Pepper steps forward, glancing over her shoulder;

“What are you doing there?”

Natasha laughs and hugs the device into her chest. She is about to plug in a recent code for SHIELDs trackers as she mumbles;

“Just work. Why?”

She lifts her shoulders, “I don’t know. Just curious if you ever plan on taking a break…?”

“I did, I wrestled Clint yesterday in the gym. Remember? I told you about the hole in the wall.”

The ginger nods, “Yes, but I meant actually taking a day off. For yourself, to do something you enjoy.”

She laughs nervously, “Look, outside of work I don’t have a ton of hobbies.”

Pepper turns to see her friend, “I mean you dance, right? You could go enjoy your studio.”

Natasha’s face changes instantly, fear in her eyes, “Who told you that.”

Steve looks over his shoulder, sensing Natasha is ready to strangle someone;

“Everyone knows. Ever since Banner built you that studio.”

“Ah yes. I recall the mirror designs, I brought those up,” Thor adds.

Romanoff glances between the small group, suspicious when Pepper holds out a key. 

“Where…”

Pepper smiles, “It’s on your floor. Toward the south side.”

Natasha takes an inhale and marches toward the elevator with her key in hand. 

Pepper lifts her hand for a high-five and receives one from Rogers;

“And now we wait.”

“She just needs some time.” 

“She _needs_ therapy.”

Thor lowers his eyebrows, “How did you come into possession of the key Lady Potts?”

Pepper lifts her focus, “Well, one of the cleaners found it.”

“Ah. And she returned it to you!”

“No, _someone_ , decided to stack Mjölnir onto Natasha’s folded laundry and it broke so Tony made another one.”

“...aha.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Bruce moves about his apartment, piecing together a device he’s quick to test on himself. He loads a blue tinged liquid into a syringe, cap caught in between his teeth.

This time there would be no mistakes. No accidental misfires. Just one bullet in a deserted location…

He cringes as he injects the serum into his forearm. The green pigmented tinge makes him brace for the worst. For as quickly as it appears, it vanishes. He’s content over the amount of pain and dark bruising that gradually shows itself. 

Bruce mumbles, targeted at his now raging primary enemy who seems to shout back in his head;

“Gotcha.”

He analyses his serum and reaches for the vibranium bullet to add his new poison...

  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Natasha’s hands pause as she reaches the door, key still caught in the handle. Her arm drops to run a hand through her hair. 

She’s afraid of an emotion, a connection- afraid of finding a part of her soul she’s tried for years to suppress. 

Taking a deep inhale, she turns the knob and steps inside the studio space. 

The high ceilings and large windows illuminate the room. She steps cautiously inside, haunted by the familiarity. It’s warm and inviting. It’s new and hardly touched. 

Her hand traces the ballet barre, pivoting to step toward the center of the room when her eyes fall on the baby grand. 

Natasha steps closer, spotting the dried orange-yellow callas. She reaches a hand up to brush the fragile flowers and vase. 

With a rushing realization she falls back onto the piano bench, hand behind her to catch the fall…

Her eyes take in the room, breath faltering slightly as her eyes gloss over in a vacant stare.

_Calla Lillies…_

_Morningside…_

_Izabella_ …

She reaches a hand to her rib cage and then over her shoulder, those were _his_ sutures, purely because she enjoyed his company…

Her hand reaches to her forehead, a pounding reminding her of a mentally ill Aldon. Her jaw tightens as she recalls the hours of videos, blood and torment she subjected herself to for _him_. 

_Morning Tea…_

_Borrowed books.._

She touches the tips of her fingers to her lips a vague memory of his close contact and the scent of his familiar cologne. His tender kisses. 

Natasha feels her chest fall as her emotions overpower her standard vague expression. 

She’s breathless when Clint enters the room, frightened over her reddened stare and wide eyes;

“Nat..? You good?”

She looks up and mumbles, “Oymyakon.”

“Come again?” He crouches in front of her, trying to search her eyes. 

Natasha snaps out of her fog and reaches to grab his shoulder;

“I remember- I remember all of it, and I know where to find Banner.”

He smirks, content to see the color returning to her cheeks and a reinvigorated energy in her soul;

“Oymyakon…?”

She nods, “I have a flight to catch.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



	25. Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Tony race the clock to reach Bruce in time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning for dark themes and attempted suicide*

The physicist moves to sort his small bag of belongings into two piles. His hands find his newly acquired metal pistol, tossing it to the side in his ‘keep’ section.

With a heavy exhale, his frustration grows, tucking any and all clothing into the bag with an eye roll. He replaces his jacket and loads the pistol with his newly enhanced weapon. 

Banner checks the clock and moves to exit the space. With the small bag over his shoulder he locks the door behind him and tucks the key underneath the mat with a final payment- plus a little extra for the kind landlord. It is not like he would need cash anymore. 

Spotting a dumpster he tosses his belongings without a second thought. Traveling lightly he walks the frozen city street with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He has a location in mind, an even more isolated party of the city. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Natasha is regretting allowing Stark to come along when he offers her a shot of scotch for the fourth time. 

She’s still frustrated by his delay in bidding Pepper goodbye and then by his insistence on his own aircraft. In Natasha’s mind, a SHIELD craft would’ve been faster.

She sits near the window, arms crossed as they reach the end of their trip. A heavy sigh merits a fifth offer of scotch. She glares in Tony’s direction;

“Ask me again and I will shatter the glass and stab your reactor with its pieces.”

“Yes, Red.”

Natasha turns her head and immediately looks back outside her window. Her jacket tugs gently as she moves, uninterested in moving from her current spot;

“How much longer.”

“About an hour.”

She doesn’t respond. Tony sips his drink, cautiously glancing over the distraught assassin. He purses his lips;

“That was a long flight...what do you think he’s up to?”

She hugs her arms a little tighter, “When was the last time you heard from him again?”

Tony shrugs, “Three days. Said he was going off the radar and that he had two more ideas for memory recollection. Said to make sure you were okay.”

Natasha feels her gut twist over the ‘off the radar’...how much more solitude could he get? She swallows over the connection she makes in her mind.

Her eyes lower. She subtly lifts her fingers to her eyelid, trying to hide a slipped tear from her traveling companion. She plays it off as an eyelash as she refocuses back out the window;

“When we get there, um. I have connections so let me do the talking.”

The engineer twists his jaw over her expression;

“I really can’t believe we just flew five thousand miles across the world- God dammit Red. You love the guy, don’t you.”

She refuses to answer when she briefly makes eye contact, biting at her inner cheek. 

Natasha can calculate the exact distance from where they are landing to her desired location. She knows which paths to search and which streets to address first. In her head she maps the distance between the city and the mountains, sketching the way in her head. 

Tony offers her a friendly smile, “You’ll find him for us. You know what you’re doing.”

Natasha swallows hard and gives her eye another rub. Finding him wasn’t her concern; She knows enough about how his mind works to pin his location. Her worry lies in his status, knowing the vibranium pills and compounds were missing from the lab.

“When we land, you should check in for us. I’ll start my search. Our landlady’s name is Olga-.”

“Leaving me at the hotel? Really?”

She remains stern in her focus. Her mind drifts toward the worst, uninterested in having her teammate find his best friend lifeless. 

“Can you just listen to me?”

Stark just nods and takes another sip of his drink, “Okay. But if you come back without him you better believe I’ll have you shot.”

Her eyelids shut as she presses her head back against her seat and numbs her senses;

“Fair enough.” 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Bruce circles the bridge, careful to avoid any security or anyone else for that matters. His hand is within his pocket as he holds the weapon, cold breeze tossing through his thick curls. He calculates the jump into the icy water below - should his plan go awry. At least the overload of vibranium would kick in and if it did nothing else, it would shut the beast down for a while.

He looks up toward the dark vacant sky with his thoughts on Betty. There is no longer a comfort in believing she’s in a better place with his mother, peacefully raising their unborn children. 

He reaches an icy hand toward his face when his thoughts shift to Natasha. When his eyes close, he can see her sweet smile, her bright red hair tossing in the breeze or the warmth of her kisses and soft words. His impending tears verifying that lump in his throat.

He'd hurt fat too many people to be given that 'second chance'.

Bruce feels his hands trembling when his knees give out. He’s cold and alone. And his mind rightfully so. Even the Hulk seems quiet in his headspace. 

Banner’s mouth opens for a scream he had held in for so long, knowing he couldn't release anything more than a whisper if he didn't want to draw attention. 

His pulse begins to race, eyes closing over a ghostly echo of his father, Ross and countless others calling him ‘useless’, a ‘monster, a ‘mutant’.

His trembling makes it all practically impossible to aim where he wants, eventually resolving to just point it for the temples. Bruce knows enough about the human body to know what would kill him fast. In the mouth would've been ideal, but he'd tried that one before. 

He snickers coldly. As he whispers to himself, a tear slips from the corner of his dark brown eyes, "Come on Banner! You can even shoot straight!"

It is what he wants. He wants to go. He'd be happier knowing he could finally enjoy sleep; No more nightmares. No more agony, tears- no more innocent screams echoing in his mind. No more images of those he loves bleeding out. He can finally put an end to the terrors and ensure no one else is ever hurt again.

Bruce shut his eyes. Right forefinger on the trigger. He couldn't miss. He couldn't afford to. His mind is somewhere between Natasha and feelings of failure.

He made his peace with Tony Stark, perhaps the most kind hearted friend he’d made in a while. A message to Clint the night prior to ensure Natasha received the care she needed.

But Natasha... He finds peace in remembering her empathetic and gentle hazel-green eyes. He scoffs as the tears stream down his cheek, she’d never be hurt again...

"You pull that trigger and I pull mine!"...And speak of the Angel.

Bruce can hear a clicking behind him, in too deep of a headspace to consider her presence real. He’s almost sure there is another pistol at the ready. He keeps his position, seated in his heels;

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Her voice cracks in the cold, verifying she is in fact behind him on that icy bridge in a desolate Russian city;

"It’s aimed at my temple Bruce. And I will shoot.”

His heart drops over her arrival, keeping the barrel at his temple. He’s afraid of the emotion, an emotion he’s silenced and suppressed;

“Natasha.”

"I was afraid of this. It was a really long flight to not even get a ‘goodbye’.”

Tears muffle his voice, the pistol shaking in his trembling aim, “You shouldn’t be here.”

She stays firm, “I’m not going anywhere unless it’s with you; you shoot I shoot.”

Bruce keeps his head low and that same stubborn aim, "Why?"

Natasha keeps that metal against her skull, "Because you're worth it. Because you matter to me. And I didn’t fly five thousand miles to find my best friend out here ready to give up."

His body aches, slowly lowering the pistol. He drops it into the light snow and covers his mouth to muffle his breaths.

Immediately she throws her own onto the ground and without a word wraps her arms around his back. 

Banner’s anger is gone the moment he feels her touch. He needs her warm embrace, gentle words, and sweet voice. She can feel him break down and give into a few tears. Her heart aches over seeing him this broken, hugging him a little tighter;

"I'm here for you Bruce, you’re not alone.”

Natasha rubs one hand over his back and up to his shoulder. She tilts her head empathetically waiting as she lightly brushes the side of his head;

“What is it going to take for you to stop blaming yourself for everything that’s wrong in the world.”

He turns slowly to face her, reaching for her elbow. He gives her a quick glance. Seeing her bright pink nose and hazel-green eyes he offers a whisper;

“Knowing you’re okay.”

Natasha stays at his side, listening to his shaky breaths. She shares a smile over his immediate concern for her;

“I’m okay...I remember,’ she sighs with a nervous laugh, ‘Everything.”

“I’m sorry Natasha.”

She lifts a shoulder, “For making me fly across the world to come after you?”

“For. That too. I guess.”

Natasha reaches to encase his cold hands with hers. She searches for his focus with her own;

“I know you’re hurting. I know there are things that I can’t fix and there are things that we can’t change. But I am here for you. And I want to help you if you’ll let me. Not for sympathy, or exploitation- But just because I. Well. I honestly and sincerely want your company. You look for the good in everyone and. You inspire me to want to be better. 

He looks up when she speaks, sensing the purity in her words and in her tone;

“Natasha I- I love-.”

She wraps a hand behind his head and pulls him close enough to latch her cold lips onto his. He inhales and returns her affection, his hands tenderly supporting her neck. 

Natasha slips her hands over his covered chest while he presses his forehead against hers. They sit silently in the peace for a moment. Her eyes open slowly as she searches for his once again,

“Bruce? Can I have that weapon?”

He nods and reaches to take up the pistol and hand it over;

"Do I have a choice."

She quickly takes the small gun and unloads the pistols into her open palm. She narrows her focus;

“Vibranium?”

“Among other things.”

Natasha rolls the bullet in her hand;

“I think…you know what.”

He watches her arm pull back and her eyes calculate the bridge. She easily throws the item up over the bridge and into the water. Bruce gives her a glare;

“Nice. Now you’re polluting.”

She shrugs, “It’s one bullet, relax...we’re not gonna go there.”

He glances over his shoulder and moves to stand, “We should get you indoors before you freeze.”

“I’m Russian, Vrach Banner.”

Bruce extends a hand to help her up, “Yeah well. I am not.”

She takes his hand and allows him to help even if she doesn’t need it;

“Where’s your place?”

He shoves his hands into his pockets and lets her take his arm;

“I turned in the key.”

She nods, trying to remain positive, “Of course you did. We have a place to stay, she’s an old friend of mine...I’m assuming you ditched all your possessions as well? Good thing Tony came along, I know you fit in his clothes.” 

He shrugs, “Eh. And what do you mean Tony came?”

“He insisted. It was a long flight.”

“Don’t tell him.”

She whispers sarcastically, “Fine. See unlike you, I can keep a secret.”

“That’s debatable.”

”Is it?”

Bruce can’t wrap his mind around her caring so much, “Why’d you do it? Fly all the way out here…”

She just smiles, “You would’ve done the same.”

They walk silently the rest of the way as Romanoff leads. An exhausted Stark is almost aggressive with his embrace and retort, hugging his friend a little tighter for each time he squirms to pull away. Banner eventually caves, tears in his eyes over Tony’s words of him being a ‘true friend’ and ‘missed.’

Natasha invites herself to the kitchen space to boil some tea, comfortable around her friend ‘Olga’ who seems to vanish as quickly as she entered. 

Tony retreats to his pull out sofa in the common room first, exhausted from the trip while Natasha and Bruce linger by the fire in the guest room. 

She offers him a warm mug, wrapping herself in his jacket that she brazenly steals. 

Banner hugs his knees, hands warmed by the mug as they wait in the silence. Natasha lays her head over his shoulder when she whispers;

“I missed you. Even before my memories came back, I felt your absence.”

His head rests over hers, safe and comfortable enough in her presence to do so;

“What triggered it? Your memory returning…?”

Natasha smirks, “The studio space. I saw the baby grand and the Callas. It all came rushing back like a tidal wave.”

He raises his eyebrow, “Huh.”

“What is it?”

He shakes his head, “I just sent over 60 ideas to Clint and Tony...never thought of the studio.”

“I guess it’s where I felt you the most. Some of my favorite memories of the year.”

Bruce sits up straighter, moving his mug to the nearby table. He turns to face her;

“Natasha? I screwed up with Aldon. I never should’ve let him even get near you- or Clint-.”

“If you apologize again…”

“No, look, what I’m saying is...you’re important to me. I can’t live with myself if I ever let anything happen to...you because…”

Her eyes widen, “Yes?”

He sighs, “Because you ‘inspire me to want to be better’.”

She swings her side into his to elicit a smile. Her hands pull his jacket closer over her shoulders;

“We should get some sleep.”

He lingers on the floor when she stands. Natasha glances over her shoulder as she turns down the covers. She can’t help but release an exasperated sigh. If she knows him as well as she thinks, he’ll insist on giving her space;

“You comin? You’re not sleeping on the floor.”

Bruce tilts his head and lifts a shoulder. There’s no point in arguing with the redhead who would risk herself for his sake. He stands and moves to settle on the opposite end, grateful to be in a soft and warm bed as his head hits the pillow. He feels safe beside her;

“I’m restless- fair warning.”

She scoffs and shrugs off his jacket, “And I scream. Don’t take offense if I kick you off; it’s involuntary.”

He laughs turning to face her. She situates herself in the same way, tucking a hand under her pillow;

“Goodnight Bruce.”

He finds her foot brushed up against his knee, held somewhat captive by the redhead and her soft hazel-green eyes;

“Goodnight Natasha.”

Her eyes shut quickly, eager to drift off into a hopefully dreamless sleep. He dare not touch her other than to quickly brush a stray hair from her face. She’s safe and he would gladly do anything to keep it that way. 

The soft scent of her citrus perfume calms his senses, forcing his eyes to close with her beside him. 

In Natasha’s haze, she reaches for his hand and intertwines his fingers with hers. He hugs her hand close to his chest and she smiles content to feel his heartbeat. 

He tests a whisper;

“I love you, Natasha Romanoff.”

The redhead cracks an eye open and quickly forces herself to remain still in her sleep. She’d address it in the morning...she has time, and she’s grateful for that. 

Even though she has no intention of responding, she smiles to herself over sharing the sentiment, the emotion long denied her. 

Did they need reasons? 

They could both count over one hundred.

* * *

~ _Fin~_  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
